Secrets Don't Make Friends
by pieces-of-jade
Summary: Canon-Era AU set between seasons 3 & 4, Arthur/Gwen & Merlin/Freya. BBC owns all. Freylin is reunited! But how long can Merlin hide his relationship from Arthur? Especially when the prince is determined to find out what Merlin's hiding.
1. Chapter 1

Note: I got this idea when I was waiting for my plane in San Francisco to board. Please give it a quick review? Also, I'm trying to decide whether or not to put it with the label of Merlin & Freya-Romance, or Merlin & Arthur-Friendship, Hurt/Comfort. So cast a vote if you want to help!

Chapter 1

"Will you be needing anything else, sire?" Merlin asked in a carefully controlled voice.

"No, that'll be all," Arthur said.

Merlin quickly bowed and scurried off at the word "all". Normally, he would've stayed around a little, tease Arthur, perhaps even get a sentencing to being put in the stocks overnight-but not today. Today he needed to get to his chambers as fast as he could.

-Earlier that Day-

"…and after you've done all of that, I need you to muck out my stables," Arthur said with an evil grin.

"Anything else?" Merlin asked thought gritted teeth.

It was a particularly sunny day. Normally that meant Arthur and he would go hunting, but instead Arthur had decided to spend the day with Gwen. It was easier for Arthur to do now as prince regent. Since his father was still recovering from Morgana's betrayal, Arthur found it easier to organize dates with Guinevere. Although Arthur would never be happy with his father's condition, Merlin couldn't help but notice a significant improvement in the other man's love life. Yet despite his plans for a lovely afternoon, Arthur wanted to make sure that Merlin didn't take advantage of his absence. So to make sure of this, he doubled Merlin's amount of chores.

"Noooooope. I think that just about covers it," Arthur smirked as he made his way out the door, "Have fun Merlin!"

...

Four hours later and Merlin was already looking a bit "worse for wear". His chores weren't even halfway completed, yet his shirt was stained with various substances. His hair was sticking out in all different directions as well, and he had bits of hay in it from the stables. He was just going to the lower town to fetch some more water for Arthur's dogs when he suddenly noticed three figures making their way to the gate. The horses-white and brown-looked familiar to Merlin. He stopped what he was doing to see who they were. His natural curiosity was heightening at-unfortunately-the same rate as the feeling of heaviness the newly filled bucket gave him.

They emerged into the sight of those within the walls slowly. It appeared to be that they were trying to be careful, Merlin noted, because one of their party was injured. It was the one in front on the white horse. He was about to go up and help them when suddenly time froze. He dropped his bucket, which landed with a loud THUD, accompanied by a splash which sloshed all over the stone floor and lower half of his pants. However, Merlin noticed none of this. Time was halted for an infinitesimal space of a moment. For there, sitting (well, more liked propped up) in front of Gwen was an unconscious person he thought he would never see again. Merlin's heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and his vision blurred became blurred around the edges. The only thing in focus was her.

She was dressed in a simple blue frock-the exact shade of Merlin's eyes, and of a certain lake's waters. Her eyes were closed, but Merlin knew the color of her dark chocolate brown orbs by heart. Her skin was lightly tanned, and her dark hair was damp as though she had recently been swimming and only just dried off. The most noticeable thing about her appearance, however, were the deep red gashes along her arms which were still profusely dripping with blood.

Then all of a sudden everything sped up at once, and Merlin rushed forward, tearing past anything which stood in his way. He arrived in front of the horses within seconds, and only dimly noticed Arthur and Gwen's presences.

"What's happened? What's going on?" Merlin shouted frantically at no one in particular. He vaguely recalled that he should probably be acting less concerned right now, so that no one became too suspicious of his affiliation with the mysterious woman, but his heart was currently over-ridding his brain.

"We found her lying in the woods as we strolled around," Arthur answer, "Guinevere insisted on getting her back to Camelot as soon as possible."

Arthur had a small, serious smile on his face as he stated this. He was aware of the gravity of the situation, but wanted to give as much credit as he could to Guinevere. The fact that she was willing to give up her day-off with him to see to the poor woman spoke volumes about her character, and he wanted to praise her for it.

Unfortunately for Arthur, however, Merlin misinterpreted his smile and started to round on him in a harsh tone, "Arthur! What's so funny? We have a-a woman-dying here! Why are you smiling?"

And with that, before Gwen could even register what was going on, Merlin gently, but firmly and quickly, lifted the girl off the horse. He flashed Gwen a quick look which clearly stated, 'I'll take it from here' before sprinting off towards the old physician's quarters, carrying the lovely stranger in his arms.

That left Arthur, still on his horse, wondering what on earth had just happened. One minute he and Gwen were having a lovely date, when they had found the girl. Then the next they were back to Camelot, putting their desires once again on hold to take care of another's more immediate needs. Then, out of nowhere, Merlin appeared and not only ran off with the injured person (and the reason his date was ruined), but also bit his head off! What was once a lovely day quickly became an irritating one. And, as if that wasn't enough, the weather was attempting to solidify his bad mood as rain clouds were beginning to form. It wasn't even lunchtime yet! Arthur began to run his fingers through his hair, when he felt Gwen's warm pressure on his wrist.

"Don't worry about it," she said gently, "Merlin's compassionate about everyone, but he doesn't have much-erm-_tact_ when he goes about it sometimes. And I'm sure that he was just stressed over all of his chores today, which made it a little worse."

Arthur just gave her a brief look of incredulity before she added, "You know he didn't mean it."

He looked at her in wonder as they both dismounted and made their way to the stables. She never ceased to surprise him with how she always knew exactly what he needed to hear. He, on the other hand, was awful when it came to knowing what to say. And it saddened him a little to think that he could never support her in the same way as they walked off together.

...

Merlin made his way to Gaius' home in record time, bursting through the door to find the old man pouring over yet another tome of remedies.

"Merlin! What on earth-?" the reprimand dying on his lips as he saw the body in his arms.

He quickly cleared off his table, and made a place for her.

"What can I do Gaius? Do you need anything? Is there something you need-" Merlin's stream of worry was shut down by a piercing gaze.

"I need you to go back to Arthur and attend your duties," Gaius declared.

He knew that when Merlin was worked up like this, he was no help at all. And by the state of how concerned he was it was obvious to Gaius that this girl meant a lot to him. He briefly wondered how Merlin knew her, but now was not the time to ask. Thus, he decided to send the young warlock away, reasoning that Merlin would be more of a hindrance than a help to him on this particular case.

So grumbling all the way, Merlin made his way out the door to attend on Arthur for the rest of the day. He made sure to appear calm, and when probed by Arthur he denied knowing the girl. He decided to tell a half-truth, and claimed that he was irritable due to how much of a clotpole his master could really be.

-Present-

Merlin had to muster all of his willpower not to burst through the door as soon as he approached it. But he knew that if she was sleeping, he would be waking her up, and thus disrupting her healing process. So he gently pushed open the door with a slight creak instead. The sight which awaited him shocked Merlin more than anything else. The woman was nowhere in sight. It was only Gaius once more alone at his work table, but this time he was studying various potions.

"Gaius!" Merlin panicked, "Where is she?"

"Calm down Merlin," Gaius said, "She was on the mend and started to wake up when Gwen came by. She offered to let the girl recover down in her house in the lower town. She was frightened to wake up and find me, and she said that she felt slightly more at ease with her rescuer. So I consented, since Gwen knows how to take care of someone well."

Merlin started to calm down a little with this explanation. Although he wished that she was closer to him, he couldn't deny that Gwen would be a great caregiver. And she probably wouldn't be as worked up as Merlin was. Thus, she would probably be more of a help than he could be at the moment. Despite how much it pained him to admit it, he knew the truth behind his thoughts.

Now that he knew the immediate danger of death was avoided, Merlin wished to skulk off before Gaius could question him. Unfortunately for him, however, Gaius knew Merlin all too well and stopped him in his tracks.

"Merlin, don't think you can get away from me right now! Who was that girl? How do you know her? I only received a brief summary of how Gwen found and rescued her, but I know that can't be the whole truth. The entire time she was unconscious she kept muttering something. It took me a while to figure it out, but then I realized she was saying _your_ _name_. Care to explain why?" Gaius inquired.

Merlin really _didn't_ care to explain why. After all, how would he explain that the woman was his true love, who he thought was dead (or at the very least trapped in a lake), yet came back to Camelot with unexplained gashes on her arms? He was secretly thrilled to learn that he had uttered _his_ name, but didn't want the physician to know. Their relationship was always private. At first it was because he had illegally helped her escape, but then it became just their secret with her death. He didn't want to share something so personal with anyone else, so he just avoided Gaius' gaze.

"Um, no not particularly," Merlin mumbled.

"Are you sure you have nothing to say for yourself?" Gaius asked once more, intensely gazing at Merlin.

"Yes," Merlin said, "Now if you don't mind, I have somewhere I-erm-have to be. Don't wait up-I'll probably be late."

And with that he was out the door quicker than lightening.

Gaius sighed-he knew better than to probe Merlin on what seemed to be a very intimate detail about the young man's private life (and he was more than entitled to have one). However, what he didn't tell Merlin was about the nature of her scratches. Merlin would probably find out soon enough on his own.

...

Arthur couldn't fall asleep. He kept tossing and turning before eventually giving up, and threw the covers off himself. He went to go get a goblet of water by the window in hopes of remedying his current sleeplessness. As he stood by the window he noticed a figure scurrying off in the direction of Gwen's house in the lower town.

His body suddenly became tense, and alert. Any last remnants of some sort of sleep vanished. He peered out his window and looked intently on the shifty looking figure as he knocked on Gwen's door. He looked familiar. His lanky figure was briefly illuminated by the moonlight before receding once more back into the shadows.

He knocked on Gwen's door, and the light from the hut cast a shadow over his figure. However, Arthur could tell from the way Gwen smiled that the man was no threat. That didn't help him relax, however, as feelings of jealously swiftly overtook his previous concern of Gwen's safety. 'Who was this man,' Arthur thought, 'Who thought they could just make late-night clandestine visits to _his_ Guinevere?'

However, Arthur was shocked to realize, as Gwen welcomed the stranger into her home, that who he thought was a stranger wasn't really one at all. The man was _Merlin_. Merlin! It was he who quickly entered Gwen's humble abode, as she shut the door firmly behind him.

Arthur was very confused. 'Why would Merlin, of all people, be visiting Gwen in the middle of the night?' he thought. He had half a mind to go down there right now and demand answers, but just as he was putting on his shirt another thought stopped him. It was a gentler thought, but it was steadfast in its content, 'You know Merlin isn't a threat. He and Gwen were friends before you and she ever got together. If they wish to hang out together you shouldn't poke your nose in their business. They have every right to. Besides, if you go there out of jealousy Guinevere will probably be upset and think that you don't trust her-which you do.' Arthur didn't even have to question which part of himself brought up this second, more logical thought. It was the fraction of himself that had changed because of Guinevere. In fact, the voice in which he heard the stream of consciousness was her sweet tones. And just like that, Arthur relaxed. He knew that he could find out whatever was going on between them in the morning. So for now, he just went back to bed, puzzling over what the two people he trusted more than almost anyone in the world could possibly be discussing at this hour before finally drifting off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Thanks to the reviewers! Okay, Freylin it is!

Chapter 2

The morning dawned to find a raven-haired man sleeping on the floor of his best friend's house, lying at the foot of her bed. Gwen was lying on the other side of the room, also on the floor. The injured girl had taken her mattress. The rain had started sometime after midnight, and hadn't relented once the sun greeted them from behind a thick layer of clouds.

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. The rain hammered against the roof rather noisily, but the small figure didn't notice. She was too busy tossing and turning in the humble bed.

"Merlin," she moaned.

Instantly Merlin was awake, and he hurriedly made his way towards her side.

"What is it? What do you need Freya?" he murmured, his focus solely on his lover.

He pushed a stray hair off her forehead, and caressed the side of her face. Then he held her hand until she calmed down. A sweat had broken across her brow, and she hadn't opened her eyes once. It was still early morning-she had plenty of time to wake up. But Merlin was starting to get suspicious of Gaius' tale which claimed that she had regained consciousness. So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he didn't notice the figure approaching him from behind.

Gwen had awoken to Merlin's loud footsteps, and looked over in time to witness him take the girl's hand. Last night when he arrived at her house he didn't explain himself, the girl, or how he knew that she was with Gwen. He simply asked if he could spend the night her home with his soulful, pleading eyes. Well, she could hardly say no when Merlin looked like that, so she acquiesced. Even if he hadn't given her _that_ look, she couldn't refuse him. He was like her brother-as close to kin that she had in Camelot aside from Elyan and Arthur.

'And thinking of Arthur,' Gwen realized, 'He probably won't be happy to find out that Merlin was in my house last night.' She groaned, inwardly, before shoving away her own problems for the more pressing ones at hand.

She stood up and waited until Merlin and the mysterious woman-Freya-that's what she heard Merlin call her-had their brief moment of privacy. Once Gwen was sure she had waited a respectful amount of time, she approached Merlin and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

He gave into the pressure, letting Gwen guide him to her table a little ways away. He gently let go of Freya's hand, bringing it tenderly to his lips before letting it drop back to her chest. As Merlin sat down at the table, he knew that Gwen would have a lot of questions he could not avoid. He braced himself for her onslaught, but instead received Gwen's arms around his body. It was a little awkward, due to the fact that he was sitting and she was standing, but the warmth and comfort which radiated from her body made him forget that. He leaned into her hug, his shoulders slumped forward, and they stayed that way for many moments. Eventually, Gwen let him go and pulled up a chair to talk with Merlin. They sat side by side in their seats, with the table to their side.

Gwen turned to face Merlin and started with a hesitant, "Merlin-"

However, before she could finish her thought Merlin cut her off.

"I know you must have a lot of questions," Merlin said quietly, "But I don't have all the answers."

"I know you may not want to talk about it Merlin, but I need to know," Gwen said gently, "I have a strange, unconscious girl, who I heard you call Freya, in my home, and I have no idea how to explain why that is! I don't even know anything about her other than her name and-"

"Look, I-I'll tell you our story," Merlin cut across Gwen's ramblings again, "But you must promise not to tell anyone else. Not even Arthur."

He gazed sternly at his best friend. He felt bad for putting her in this position, but he could not risk Arthur finding out about Freya. If he did, Arthur would learn not only about Freya, but about her true form, the sword forged in a dragon's breath hidden in the lake, and Merlin's secret night time activities which usually included magic. Suffice it to say, Arthur would be finding out more than Merlin's relationship. It would be what was probably one too many of Merlin's secrets.

Gwen, meanwhile, tittered for a moment before giving Merlin her solemn oath. Merlin was never secretive unless there was a very good reason for it, she reasoned, and there must be one to compel him to ask her to keep secrets from Arthur. So she nodded her silent agreement.

There was an awkward silence as Gwen watched Merlin collect his thoughts. It wasn't his body language so much as his eyes which betrayed his inner turmoil.

"Do you remember the bastet?" Merlin asked her suddenly, without warning.

"From about a year and a half ago? Yes," Gwen answered.

How could she not? All beasts were terrifying, but that one in particular stood out. It felt as if that monster was more than a monster from the way Arthur had described the battle to her later on. She had never told him her suspicions, instead letting them brew silently within herself. However, Gwen had not forgotten them, which was what made the particular beast noteworthy to her mind.

"It wasn't Freya's fault. You need to understand," Merlin cryptically said.

"What are you talking about Merlin?" Gwen asked. One moment he was asking about the bastet and the next he was talking about Freya.

"Freya was…attacked when she was younger. She defended herself from the man, but she didn't mean to kill him. She just wanted to get away. The mother of the man, however, was furious…she put a curse on Freya to kill forevermore. She…she was transformed into the bastet," Merlin haltingly said. The words sounded as if they were ripped from his soul. The way his voice embodied Freya's doom sounded as if it was he, and not her, that had been personally victimized.

Gwen put her hand to her mouth, her eyes growing as large as dinner plates.

"She couldn't control when she transformed," Merlin forged on in a hardened tone, "She couldn't stop herself from killing all of those people. We met as she was about to be put to death. I helped her escape from the cage and we…bonded…quickly. I wanted to protect her, and we wanted to run away together-to a field with a couple of cows, some wildflowers, and a lake. Somewhere where no one would recognize us, and everyone would be safe. But before we could escape together she ran off. Freya had told me that she didn't want to be the reason for why I gave up my life-my "good life" as she said-here. I had tried to convince her that my life was with her-it _was_ her-and I thought I had. She had told me to go fetch us supplies. But when I came back, she…she was gone."

The hurt had begun slowly working its way back into Merlin's voice, and Gwen could tell that it hurt him just as much now to talk about the situation as it did then.

"In the end it didn't matter," Merlin continued, "In her bastet form she was mortally wounded, so our plans were put on hold-permanently."

A slight amount of bitterness had worked its way amongst the hurt which Merlin's voice conveyed. However it was a hollow sort of bitterness-taking on a more resigned feeling than one full of malice.

He fell silent, and it was clear to Gwen that he didn't want to speak about his relationship with Freya anymore. But she wouldn't let him stop-he hadn't explained everything yet.

"Merlin, who…who killed Freya?" Gwen tentatively asked. She knew that Merlin had carefully treaded around that particular subject matter, but it was her own belief that talking through your grief was equivalent to bleeding out a wound. Although both hurt initially, the end result was worth it for that was when healing could truly begin.

Merlin avoided her eyes and mumbled something indistinguishable.

"What was that?" Gwen asked gently.

He mumbled something which suspiciously sounded like "none of your business", or perhaps it was "it doesn't matter". Either way Gwen would have none of it.

"Merlin, you need to tell me. It sounds like you haven't told anyone about Freya for a long time, and it's time that you worked through your grief," Gwen patiently reasoned with him.

Merlin was silent for a few moments. His eyes still didn't look up at Gwen until finally, suddenly, they did. As they flashed up at Gwen for a fraction of a second he finally spoke the answer.

"It was Arthur," Merlin breathed before quickly looking back down at his clasped hands in his lap.

Gwen's mind reeled. 'No, it couldn't be!' she thought. Her beloved Arthur murder Merlin's true love? It was unthinkable. She was beginning to become highly agitated when she started remembering bits and pieces of what she had heard about the battle. The realization came slowly, but once it did, everything clicked at once. Arthur had slain Merlin's true love. It was the only fact which mattered, and she gasped rather loudly at her deduction.

As she was digesting the news, Merlin went on ahead, acting like he hadn't just said the name of his master, "I gave her a funeral at the Lake of Avalon. It was a simple, but noble thing-a Viking funeral. I think she would've liked it. But what I didn't know was that somehow a type of magic bound her spirit to the lake. She returned as the Lady of the Lake, and helped me save Camelot once…"

Merlin's eyes started to take on a faraway look, and fell silent. Gwen could tell that she was not privy to the matter in which Freya had helped him, so she didn't prod him further in that direction.

Instead, she asked two different, but equally pressing questions, "But if her spirit was bound to the lake, then how did she return? And why couldn't you be together?"

"I don't know," Merlin said, becoming mute once more.

Gwen could tell that his enigmatic response was referring to both of her queries. There was also a hint of finality to his tone which made her decide to stop questioning him for the day. It was partially his unspoken message behind his words, but it was also the fact that he had answered most of her larger questions. The rest of her smaller inquires could be filled in by her intuition. After all, you would have to be blind not to sense the tender affection which radiated from Merlin when he looked at Freya. She wondered how she didn't notice it yesterday, but remembered that he had only been with Arthur and herself for a few moments before whisking away his beloved.

It soon became clear, however, that Merlin wasn't as content with their talk as she was when he asked her, "Gwen, tell me how Freya _really_ came to be here."

It wasn't a resentful tone, nor was it filled with pleasure. His voice was cool and collected, but it also had adopted a sort of shrewdness to it that Gwen rarely heard. Yet somehow it seemed to fit, and sound more natural coming from the young man instead of his normal oblivious tones.

"I take it you figured out she didn't actually wake up, then," Gwen commented quietly.

Merlin merely nodded.

"Gaius said he would tell you that because he didn't want you to worry. I told him that I didn't think you would be fooled, but come to think of it, I don't think that he did either. I…I think he wanted you to find out…the news…from me. I think he thought you would handle it better if I told you," Gwen mused. The last part of her speech came out hesitantly and cautiously as his eyebrows rose rapidly and worriedly.

"News? What news?" Merlin asked fearfully.

"Freya didn't wake up when Gaius tended to her. However, when normal injuries like this show up on his doorstep they do. So he needed to know how she was found. He knew that Arthur and I were the ones who discovered her from a passing knight. So he summoned me and I told him that Arthur and I were passing by a lake when we saw her passed out by a bush. The cuts immediately grabbed my attention, so we brought her back straight away," Gwen paused to draw breath before continuing on.

But when she did, it was a little more tentatively than before, "He said that it was fortunate that I had brought her back when I did…because…because the cuts are not normal inflictions. They were made using a powerful magic."

She let the words hang in the air between them for a moment before rushing to divulge the rest of the information Gaius gave her, as if telling it all in one breath would ease the blow, "That's why Freya won't wake up, according to Gaius. And he said that she probably won't-he doesn't know any cure for her marks except one. He thinks that the scars were inflicted by a powerful sorcerer. There _might_ be a chance, but it would require going on a very long journey, with a slim chance of success. I didn't ask for the details, but insisted that I tend to her because I felt like it was all my fault…if I had gotten to her sooner….I'm so sorry Merlin."

Gwen's voice had faded at the end, and her face took on a sober expression as the rain pounded on harder than ever. The day was starting up, and soon they would have to be at the castle, going about their daily routines. Freya was still unconscious, and there was little motion coming from her part of the room now. But Merlin didn't pay attention to any of that. He knew what he was going to do. He had known from the moment Gwen had brought his sweet Freya to Camelot. The news about her injuries only sped up his steely resolve. He was going to take care of her no matter what the cost.

His eyes took on a determined, desperate glint which only lovers in times of trouble seem to wear. And his countenance had hardened into an emotionless mask of solid strength.

"Well then I guess I better get packing."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Arthur was annoyed. Actually, he was more than annoyed. He was frustrated to bits. Merlin had decided not to show up for work today. This meant that a replacement servant had to cover for him, and for Arthur that meant that he had to spend a day listening to jokes about brass.

"…And then I said to him, that's not gold, its brass!" George guffawed loudly, but not too loudly, at his joke. His eyes immediately sought Arthur's for approval, and the prince regent managed to crack a small smile.

As George made to straighten up his room, Arthur bent his head lower over his desktop, determined to keep his face out of sight as he worked out some things in his head. He was trying to immerse himself in various important diplomatic documents of the day, but something kept popping up in his mind instead. _Merlin and Gwen._

'What had they been doing together? And so late at night? And so secretively?' he mused. It was not doing his brain any good. He had been constantly tormenting himself with images last night of them embracing together in some manner, and consequently had received very little actual "sleep".

"George," he announced suddenly, the servant immediately dropping his work to turn and bow towards Arthur.

"Sire," the servant inquired politely.

"I'm going out. I probably won't be back for a few hours. Please see to it that my armor has been polished, my room clean, you know…the usual. I might be out on the field sometime later today, but I won't need you. Most likely, I won't need you until lunch. So feel free to make yourself scarce until then."

"Yes sire," said George submissively.

'Merlin wouldn't have given in that easily, nor would I have given him such a liberal amount of free time,' Arthur glumly thought as he made his way out the door and towards Gaius' chambers. He was missing his manservant's usual prattle, as much as he hated to admit it. It just wasn't a proper morning without either throwing something at least once, or else starting some sort of verbal battle with Merlin.

He reached Gaius' door rather quickly. He had been walking fast, wanting answers desperately. He would've gone to Gwen's but he knew that both she was most likely attending his father, as was her job. Since she wouldn't be home, he doubted that Merlin would still be in her house, but either with Gaius or the tavern if he was shirking his duties.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Arthur opened the door and stepped inside, not waiting for an answer before doing so. The sight before him shocked-no stunned his entire being.

The place was always a little messy. Gaius' potions and medical texts made the room feel slightly cluttered, but everything was always where it was supposed to be. It had a welcoming presence, but it still warned visitors not to touch anything by its sheer organizational system (which appeared to be none at all). However, this was not the normal untidiness which exuded "friendliness". This mess was complete chaos. There was a sense that the entire room had been turned upside down. Books haphazardly thrown here and there, various bottles taken down from shelves, and bits of debris had been tossed around rather carelessly. In the middle of this utter bedlam stood his scrawny, raven-haired servant with a pack by his feet. He was looking down, spinning in a circle, appearing to be looking for something specific. Arthur had no idea what it was, or how he was going to find it in the mess, but he was more concerned with the bag by Merlin's feet. It looked like the young man had almost finished packing for a journey-a journey which appeared to be very long, very tiring, and very extensive. 'Was Merlin leaving Camelot for good?' Arthur thought in a panic. Yet he forced himself to calm down.

"Merlin," Arthur said evenly from the doorway.

The young man was still looking down at his feet.

"Merlin!" Arthur said a little louder.

The lanky frame still didn't register Arthur's voice.

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur raised his voice again, this time stressing his servant's name like he normally did.

"Huh?" Merlin looked around, bewildered.

Once he saw Arthur his face drained of the small amount of color it had.

"Oh," he managed to get out in a fairly emotionless tone. However, his actions immediately became more awkward once he realized his master was in the room. He didn't stop his actions, though, and he resumed his position of bending his neck downwards to look for some object that he needed.

"What's all this?" Arthur asked, gesturing around the room, in the general direction of Merlin's pack.

Merlin muttered something indistinguishable, and Arthur's eyebrows raised up underneath his fringe of gold.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," Arthur said pointedly, and a little loudly.

"Don't you know when someone is packing?" Merlin asked sarcastically, with a dash of sullenness.

"I get that, what I don't understand is why _you _are doing so."

"I guess I'll always remain a mystery to you then."

Arthur was shocked at Merlin's tone. It was clipped and to the point, with only just enough teasing to be considered "not hurtful". He wondered at what could have made Merlin act this way, and a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what could have happened at Gwen's.

"Merlin, where are you going?" Arthur asked directly, trying a different angle at which to find out what was clearly troubling Merlin.

"Away," he answered distractedly, finally finding the missing neckerchief he was looking for.

Merlin stashed it away in his bag before giving the room a once over, and then shut his it. He attached a small sleeping roll to the outside of the pack, and then swung it over his shoulders. He could've just been arriving to Camelot.

He made his way to the door, but Arthur stood in his way, blocking the threshold with his larger frame. Merlin knew that he could've easily moved past Arthur, but his conscience was gnawing at his soul. He had been packing all morning, hastily asking George if he would cover for him. George, of course, had happily accepted (he always loved doing anything for the prince regent), which left Merlin free to go back to Gaius' chambers. The old physician was currently away from his rooms, attending his daily duties around the lower town. However, when he had first arrived, he had gone straight to Gaius to confront him about his knowledge pertaining to Freya.

-A Few Hours Earlier-

"Gaius!" Merlin yelled when he walked through the doorway. He didn't know that Gaius was in the main room.

The elderly healer looked up from his book, and took a deep breath. He knew what was coming. Merlin was going to try and save the druid girl. Again.

He had finally been able to place his unfortunate patient in his memory late last night. It was the girl in the cage-the one that Merlin had helped about a year and a half ago. He thought that she had died, but clearly she was alive and-well, not in good health, but certainly not dead. As far as Gaius could tell, she was the closest thing to a girlfriend that Merlin had had.

"Yes, Merlin?" he answered evenly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Merlin practically whispered as he realized the man he had come to love as kin was closer than he thought. His eyes showed the depth of his brokenness, his hurt and sense of betrayal.

"I didn't want you gallivanting off, trying to save her. It's a fool's errand," Gaius said sadly.

"You know that I would-that I will-do whatever it takes."

"I know," Gaius said quietly, his eyes turning towards the floor as Merlin approached him.

Merlin sat down on the bench, now side by side with the elderly man. A silence stretched between them-it was neither awkward nor comfortable. It was simply there-it was. Just as Merlin and Gaius were for this brief moment in time.

"You must travel to the shores of the Sea of Grace. There, you need to collect one of the small yellow flowers which grow on the island in the center of the water. She doesn't have much time-maybe five days," Gaius finally broke.

Merlin's brow creased slightly. There was no question about whether or not he was going to attempt to save Freya. However, he didn't truly comprehend Gwen's warning until now. The Sea of Grace was at least a two day ride journey from Camelot through woods infested with various things which bore travelers no good will. Furthermore, there was rumored to be a powerful spell which prevented the sea to be found by normal means. It would only reveal itself to those who "knew the true meaning behind its name". Merlin had no idea what that meant-although he would trouble himself about that later. He was more concerned with time. The time he was away from Arthur-how was he going to explain where he was going?-and the time he spent travelling-Freya could die before he even made it back (assuming he was successful in his quest).

A silence settled upon them again before Merlin looked up from his lap, catching Gaius' eye.

"Thank you," he said with all of the heartfelt sincerity he could muster.

Gaius simply nodded before saying, "Remember to take enough protection with you. It wouldn't hurt if you brushed up on your healing and spell knowledge. I'm still not sure how she exactly received her scars, and on your journey you will be passing by the spot Gwen found her by. I think it would be wise if you tried avoid running into the same sorcerer, don't you?"

Then he rose from the bench, picked up his medicine pack, and walked towards the door. He knew that he would never be able to convince Merlin to stay, so he figured that he might as well give him all of the information he could to arm the lad against potential dangers.

He stopped before exiting the room, holding the door open, saying, "Please be careful, Merlin."

He nodded, confirming his understanding before Gaius strode out of sight.

-Present-

With all of this weighing on Merlin's plenty burdened mind, he wasn't sure he could stand lying to Arthur. He did it enough has it was, and he was sure that if Arthur ever asked him outright if he was lying he would have a hard time denying it. And with the young prince being so particularly determined to weasel information out of him, he decided to give in just this once.

"I'm going to the Sea of Grace." Merlin said.

Arthur was still blocking his exit path, and looked at Merlin with wide eyes at his pronouncement. The sea, and the land which surrounded it, was supposed to have extraordinary healing properties. However, it was also said to be protected by some of the most deadly creatures around. There could only be one reason his manservant would be foolish enough to try and seek it out.

"Does this anything to do with your visit to Gwen's last night?"

The words tumbled out of Arthur's mouth before he could stop them. He hadn't meant for Merlin to know that he had seen their rather secretive meeting, but it had been on his mind all day. The effect his words had on the raven haired man were instantaneous. He froze, and looked rather shifty-and a little guilty-for a few moments before recovering himself.

"In a way," were the words Merlin finally settled upon. He said them a little stiffly.

Arthur's brow immediately creased with worry, and asked a little gruffly, "What's wrong?"

Merlin's eyebrows flew up in understanding, and said hastily, "Oh no, it doesn't have anything to do with Gwen. It has to do with…a mutal…_friend_…of ours. She's ill. Extremely ill. And Gaius said this was the only cure for her. So I need to set out-to help her. I visited Gwen last night to…_confirm_…her thoughts about my mission."

Arthur's form nearly sagged with relief. The visit had been as harmless as he suspected, but his jealous tendencies had gotten the better of him.

However, it wasn't before long before he was asking suspiciously, "Oh yeah? And what_ were_ these thoughts?"

Merlin's hasty body language, and verbal skills were "sketchy" as best. The manservant really never had excelled at lying.

However, at these words Merlin took a more defensive, confident stance in front of Arthur.

"That she thought it was a perfectly good and reasonable quest. She loves our friend as much as I do," Merlin said evenly. There wasn't a trace of embarrassment or shiftiness to his voice anymore.

The prince was slightly taken aback at the change in Merlin's demeanor. So much so that he actually stepped back just enough so that Merlin could slip past him into the open doorway. As he bolted out the door, Arthur spun around and shouted after him.

His servant was quick when he wanted to be-he was already halfway down the corridor as Arthur rang out, "Hey wait a minute!"

Merlin stopped abruptly in his tracks, but didn't turn around, his pack resting on his back. Arthur half jogged, half strode down the hall to catch up with him. As he came even with Merlin's body, he put his arm on his shoulders.

Merlin turned to face Arthur, and they stood side by side, as Arthur said, "I love Guinevere very much, and if this friend of yours is as important as you both believe her to be, I won't stop you."

The servant's frame sagged and practically radiated with relief. Arthur hadn't yet put together that their "friend" was the druid girl, but he had no doubt that he probably would later. Right now he was more focused on the fact that Arthur wasn't going to punish him for trying to look for the Sea.

"However-"

Merlin groaned. This couldn't bode well for him.

"I also believe that this was an incredibly daft plan. I mean, trying to leave in the middle of the day, sending no one but George to fill your shoes. …it's completely horrible. And on top of that, you're going all by yourself. Do you really think that you'll be able to manage?"

"Well of course I will!" Merlin huffed, offended in a good-natured way.

"Nonsense," Arthur continued, "Which is why I shall be accompanying you!"

He took the hand which was holding Merlin's shoulder to slap him soundly on the back (or technically, the knapsack).

"Honestly Arthur there's no need," the lanky man said hurriedly.

It wasn't like he didn't appreciate his friend's help and determination, but he really wanted to go out on this quest alone. After all, how on earth was he supposed to explain the countless questions Arthur would probably be asking on the trip about his "friend"? And he wouldn't be able to use his magic-which he was sure he would be in need of-as easily on his journey.

"Don't try to be a hero Merlin, it really doesn't suit you," was all Arthur said cheerily before starting to walk away.

"I'll meet you at the stables in about an hour. Do be sure to have my horse ready!" he called cheerily over his shoulder as he strode off, leaving his servant alone to groan in an empty hallway.

It was going to be a very long quest.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: Sorry this has taken me so long. Spring Break has forced me to focus on some "last minute" tests and vacation plans! And I think that had a glitch on my last chapter, because I wasn't sure if it posted or not, and all of my stats for it are ruined, etc etc…so I'm mildly annoyed about that. Lastly, I want to point out that I'm very fickle because I had great motivation at the start of this story, but now it's sort of slowing down. So please review so that I can stop being annoyed and feel empowered again :)

Chapter 4

Merlin didn't go directly to the stables when Arthur proclaimed that he would be accompanying him. He knew that he could get the horses ready in an instant (especially with the help of his magic). Instead, he sneaked off towards Gwen's house. He needed to tell her about this new development of Arthur coming along so that she wouldn't be caught off-guard by Arthur's proclamation of going with him.

As he entered Gwen's house he was greeted with a cry.

"Merlin!" Gwen exclaimed as he bounded through the door unannounced, "You really should learn how to knock."

She was already dressed, and the remnants of breakfast were left on the kitchen table. However, she was no longer at the counter, but hovering over Freya with a damp cloth.

Merlin looked slightly sheepish, but the urgency of the news he had to convey superseded his embarrassment.

"I'm sorry Gwen, but something' s just come up. It's Arthur. He's found out that I'm going to the Sea, and he's insisted he's coming along," Merlin said.

Gwen instantly focused all of her attention onto Merlin as soon as he mentioned Arthur.

"What?" she asked sharply.

"He caught me in the middle of packing, and refused to leave me alone until I told him what I was doing. You need to persuade him not to come with me! It'll be dangerous, and I don't really want to answer all of his annoying questions which I'm sure will come up. Besides, Camelot needs him-you know this Gwen."

She nodded, what Merlin said was true. She needed to go stop him before he risked his life for a girl he barely knew.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to him," Gwen said as she quickly left her humble abode.

As soon as she closed the door, Merlin sprinted over to Freya's side. Although he had been talking with Gwen, and what he had to say was important, his true attention had been focused on his lover ever since he had entered the room.

"Oh Freya," Merlin whispered as he took one of her hands in his and held it to his heart, stroking it softly, "I promise I _will _make you better."

She stirred slightly in her sleep. Clearly, although her body was-for all intents and purposes-dead to its surroundings, her mind was still aroused when she sensed Merlin's presence.

"I wish you would wake up," Merlin said earnestly, "I wish you could tell me what-or who-did this to you. I wish that I could know that you understand just how much I love you. I wish I knew how you got here, and how you escaped the lake. But most of all I wish that you were better. I want that more than anything. You know I would gladly give my life for yours Freya. A thousand times over if necessary."

Merlin's breathing started to become irregular, and his heart sped up as his emotions ran higher.

"You can't leave me here alone-again-Freya. When you died, although I still breathed you should know that I never lived. I protect Arthur with my life so willingly because without you it means nothing to me. I mean, sure, it could also because I have a destiny which I can't escape, and because I believe in the arrogant prat…but mainly I think it's because life doesn't feel worth living without you."

"Please Freya," Merlin started again after taking a moment to calm down his emotions, "Seeing you this second time has made me feel things I never thought I would be able to again. If I lost you now-I-I don't know what I would do. Freya, I don't think that I'm strong enough to see you die again. Not when I can do something about it."

She twitched slightly in her sleep, her lips mouthing the faintest of words. As she did so Merlin froze-surprised by her movement. Her mouth was tracing the outline of one phrase over and over again-but very faintly. It looked like Freya was painstakingly trying to convey to him a message, which warmed his heart. But he was deeply saddened that she had to take so much trouble to communicate with him. However, the message she was saying was undeniable, and the meaning behind it warmed Merlin's heart like nothing else could.

"I love you Merlin."

That's what she was saying. _I love you Merlin._ He couldn't stop himself from caressing her face one last time as she mouthed these words. His touch instantly abated the worry lines which had appeared on her brow-it was as if she had been afraid that Merlin wouldn't comprehend or receive her message.

"Silly Freya, I know you do," Merlin murmured in her ear, "And you must know that I love you too."

He stayed by her side for a few more moments-relishing in her simple touch, and basking in the words she had tried to utter. But he knew that it was time to go-so that he could cure her. Thus Merlin regretfully let her hand go, and gently laid it on top of her coverlet. Then he bent over her face, lowering his lips delicately to hers for a feather-light kiss. He paused for another private moment before rising and walking towards the door.

"This isn't goodbye. It's just a temporary parting." Merlin said as he reached the threshold, turning around to face Freya for one last time.

Then with that he closed the door and headed off towards the stables.

….

"Arthur!" a melodious voice rang out across the courtyard, teeming with concern.

The blonde haired man stopped from his path towards the stables, and turned around. His eyes were graced with the sight of Guinevere running down the palace steps in a pretty blue dress.

"Guinevere," Arthur smiled warmly.

He had noted the worry in her voice, though, and knew what was going to come next.

"How on earth can you be gallivanting out on this crazy quest?" she inquired as she approached him.

"Guinevere, you know that normally I wouldn't go, but you know how helpless Merlin is without me. He'd be dead before nightfall," Arthur stated evenly.

He knew he didn't have to cover up his bond with Merlin with sarcastic remarks to Gwen. She knew how much the young man meant to Arthur.

"Besides, I thought that this quest was to help a _mutual _friend of yours?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, it is! But-I mean-you don't have to-" Gwen began to falter.

She had promised Merlin to convince Arthur not to go. However, she was also not supposed to reveal to Arthur who Freya really was. She and Merlin had agreed to say that she was a mutual friend of theirs the earlier that day. It wasn't a far stretch of Gwen's imagination-she was deeply concerned for the girl's health, and could imagine getting along quite easily with someone that Merlin had fallen for. However, none of her promises entailing Arthur and Freya changed the fact that she hardly knew the young lady. And if it was a choice between sacrificing Freya, or Arthur and Merlin, Gwen knew who she would-sadly and a little bit regrettably, but no doubt unmistakably-choose. Not that she would ever tell Merlin.

"I don't have to go on this journey? You know I have to. If nothing else, I am doing this for Merlin. He obviously cares about this 'friend' of his quite a lot. And if I don't go and help him, who knows what kind of trouble he'll get into! I know that I'm the prince regent, but I've arranged with Sir Leon to take care of everything in my absence. And I'm sure that you will do everything in your power to assist him if needed. Trust me Guinevere, I know that I am leaving the kingdom in good hands. Besides, I'm sure that our quest won't take longer than a week-five days tops," Arthur said.

Guinevere bit her bottom lip, obviously still conflicted between her loyalties to Arthur and Merlin. However, she also knew that once Arthur made up his mind about something there was no changing it. And it was true that they were most likely not going to be gone for longer than a week.

Finally, she managed to get out the words, "Well then just promise me you'll be careful."

Arthur took a small step towards her, and took her chin, capturing her face in his large hands. Then he tenderly bent down and gave her a small kiss.

"Don't worry, I will be."

And with a final smile Arthur went to the stables to get ready for the journey ahead.

….

Merlin had gotten Arthur's horse ready just in case Gwen couldn't persuade him to leave well enough alone. He knew that Arthur was stubborn, and once he decided to do something he did it-without hesitation. However, he also hoped to be fast enough out of the stables to leave Arthur behind. Although it proved to be a futile dream, as the royal walked into the stables just as Merlin was going to take off.

"Merlin!" Arthur boomed in greeting, "Not about to take off without me, eh?"

"No of course not sire," Merlin said in a clipped voice. Irritation practically radiated from the young man's body.

Merlin slightly resented Arthur's strong will sometimes. It was a great quality to have in a leader-to have someone so confident and ready to take charge was essential to a prosperous future in Camelot. However, it was times like these when this particular trait turned into something Merlin preferred to deem "pig-headedness". He was annoyed that Arthur had arrived before he could set off, and that he had still insisted on going on this quest. He was even more exasperated by the fact that Arthur had immediately "taken charge" over his mission to save Freya. But mostly, he was irritated by the fact that Arthur was dead set on coming with him to save a girl who he technically killed. The irony of the situation was not lost on Merlin.

Arthur checked over the horses

"Right, well it seems like everything is in order then, let's set off," Arthur proclaimed, oblivious to the surrounding tension.

"Yes sire," Merlin responded, adopting a cold exterior once he realized Arthur's naivety to the situation.

Arthur gave him a slightly quizzical look. Merlin was not usually this short with him, nor was he so emotionless. Nevertheless, he simply chalked it up to Merlin just being Merlin. So with those final words Arthur led them out through the doors, into the courtyard, and off into the woods.


	5. Chapter 5

Note: Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 5

It was a two day ride until they found the lake. And they weren't more than ten minutes away from the castle grounds when Arthur decided to initiate a conversation.

"Sooo Merlin…"

Merlin groaned silently. He had been silently praying for the dollophead to remain uninterested and distant on their journey. But he knew it was too much to expect. He didn't feel like answering the clotpole's prying questions on a normal day, so how on earth was he going to survive a journey in which Arthur was likely going to prattle on all day?

'For Freya. For Freya. For Freya,' Merlin repeated in his head over and over again.

"Yes sire?" Merlin responded.

"What's the story with you and this 'friend' of yours?" Arthur inquired. He never was one to beat around the bush.

"Nothing," Merlin lied with skill, "She was just a girl from Camelot who moved to Ealdor. She and Gwen were girlhood friends. When she came to my village we became close, but-she had to-leave-after a few years. Her parents had-died-a few years after they came, so she wanted to get out of the town. She had said something-something about going away for awhile, and that was all I knew for a long time. I-I was surprised-to say the least-when she showed up with you and Gwen. Because for all I knew-you know-she was-gone."

He halted slightly as he spun his yarn-his improvisation shinning through in these small cracks-but Arthur either didn't pick up on them, or else didn't comment on it.

"But surely that isn't it Merlin! Come on, you can tell me. The way you acted…all 'shifty' back there…I have a hard time believing that's it," Arthur prodded.

"Trust me. That's it," Merlin said with a hint of finality to his words.

Arthur dropped the subject at his tone, and so they continued in silence.

They rode in this fashion for hours. Merlin had scouted out the route prior to departure, but it warned that the Sea moved about in its own fashion. All that the map had really done was give them general directions to the area the body of water was usually found.

_The Sea would only reveal itself to those who knew the true meaning behind its name._

'What the heck did that mean?' Merlin pondered.

Grace. That was the name of it, as Merlin knew, but how was he supposed to know the "true" meaning of the word? He had a feeling that simply knowing the dictionary definition of the word would probably not do the trick. Hopefully, he could magically sense it. Or else, he would be able to use his magic in some sense to locate it.

Meanwhile, Arthur had also been stewing in silence. He had known about the mythical healing powers of the Sea since he was a young lad. However no one that he knew of had ever actually found it. Or if they did, they never came back to Camelot. But it had been a very long time since anyone had ventured out to find this mythical healing wonder. Only those in desperation sought it out, when no other cure would work.

'What sort of desperation could push Merlin to this?' Arthur speculated through their silence. He knew that not everything which Merlin had said about the girl had added up. This was clearly the plight of a man with nothing left to lose. However, the tone of Merlin's voice had not-so-subtly suggested that he drop the topic. Arthur wondered why his best friend continued to hide secrets of his past from him. He was trustworthy, wasn't he? Sure, he could be just as much of a pain as the next royal, and perhaps he was oblivious to certain circumstances which seemed to follow Merlin like a moth to a flame. But he knew how to be a good man, a good friend, didn't he?

Arthur groaned inwardly as thoughts of incompetence began to bombard his mind. He knew that he didn't deserve someone like Gwen, and he sure didn't do anything to justify having a friend like Merlin. In fact, he remembered with a wave of guilt, he had been the biggest bully in Camelot until they had shown him the error of his ways. The insecurity he felt was ridiculous. If his father could see him now he would most likely chastise him for caring so much about his people's opinion of him. In particular, two certain servants' opinions of him.

Throughout the hours of riding both Merlin and Arthur were too wrapped up in their thoughts to notice that the other was equally troubled. They were also too absorbed to see the bandits hiding in the forest, sneaking up on them until it was too late.

….

Gwen had been bustling around the castle all day. In between trying to convince Arthur to stay in Camelot, hearing the true story behind Merlin and Freya, helping Leon run the kingdom and her own duties around the castle she was exhausted. However, her day was nowhere close to being done. It was only noon, but the morning had been very trying. She was glad when lunch finally came around.

She went back to her own home for the mid-day meal. Normally, she would've either skipped lunch (there was just too much to do), or else she would eat something in the castle kitchens. But she had made an unspoken vow with Merlin to take care of Freya while he was away. He had never officially asked her to do this, but she knew that he wanted her to.

As she entered her abode, she noticed that Freya's condition had worsened. It hadn't even been 48 hours since the girl had entered Camelot, and Merlin had set out to save her just that morning. But whatever was slowly killing the poor woman wasn't being so slow anymore.

Previously, if you didn't look at the large gashes on her arms, one could've mistaken Freya for simply sleeping rather peacefully. Now, however, her skin paled to the extent that it looked like marble, and it felt just as cold. And her scratches had begun to bleed again. However, her breathing still had a steady, although faint, rhythm to it. 'Thank goodness for small blessings,' Gwen thought as she quickly went to the girl's side.

The wounds were not bleeding as much as Gwen first thought they were when she had first entered the room, which was a relief to her. However, no matter how hard she tried, Gwen could not get them to abate. There was a slow, steady trickle of blood which was pooling on Gwen's floor. She supposed it was part of whatever terrible magic had been in the attack or curse which Freya had faced.

All thoughts of eating during her lunchtime had fled Gwen's mind now. She could tell that the poor lass didn't have much time left, and she just prayed that Merlin and Arthur would find the cure in time. And once she thought about the pair, thoughts of disasters which could've befallen them on their journey immediately popped up within her mind. So for good measure, she whispered another silent prayer for their safety.

….

"Attack!" someone shouted, and in the next moment Merlin and Arthur found themselves surrounded on all sides.

Arthur drew his sword quickly, and immediately began to slice his way through these criminals. He wasn't the best knight in all of Camelot for nothing. However, although he easily dispatched five men quickly, twenty more were running at him. He dismounted his steed as soon as he saw his attackers next assault coming at him. As the twenty men approached, Arthur readied his stance. However, they never quite reached Arthur as a tree branch decided to snap before they could harm him. It knocked out all of them-apparently-even though it wasn't a large branch. 'It was a very fortuitous break-literally', Arthur thought as his next opponents approached him from his right, and were easily defeated.

Arthur's swordsmanship was impressive, and Merlin couldn't help but envy him sometimes. He was complete rubbish with a sword, but he had recently taken to practicing with one. It never hurt to have more skills that could protect oneself, or others. However, in Merlin's heart he knew that he would never be a swordsman. It would never be since he had an all-powerful magic on his side which came to him as naturally as breathing-even if he couldn't openly use it to their advantage.

So as the bandits attacked, Merlin picked up his own sword to fend them off in front of Arthur. But as soon as Arthur's back was turned to face his assailants, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and his own attackers flew back to the ground-dead. As he turned around he saw twenty men rapidly approaching Arthur underneath a conveniently located tree. Another discreet flash of gold, and they were easily taken care of. The broken branch had killed a few of them, but it was mainly to cover up the much more powerful spell Merlin had cast to take all of them out.

Soon enough, most of the bandits lay dead on the road, and the ones that had escaped were long gone in the trees. The odds had been stacked against them about 20: 1, but Arthur and Merlin had prevailed. Their silent battle of wills had been put on hold while they faced immediate danger. But once it was gone, the tension was back. 'Merlin really could be stubborn when he wanted to be,' Arthur thought dully as they finished accounting for all of their supplies and headed off again.

….

The attack had come around noon, and soon the sun began to set over the horizon. In the dwindling sunlight they had found a place to set up camp for the night. As Merlin left to gather more firewood in the distance after dinner, Arthur was left to ponder all that had occurred throughout the day.

It had started off with George. That usually never ended well. Then he had discovered Merlin trying to leave him-and without the decency to even tell him where he was off to! Of course, once he found out Merlin was going on a quest, Arthur couldn't help himself, and he had to come along-to protect Merlin, although he would never admit it. Then there was the silence. That really was the worst part of it all. Normally he wanted Merlin's endless prattle to find a stopping point. However, once it had, Arthur had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the kind of feeling which never boded well with him. And then, of course, there was the attack. After attacks, normally, their bond grew closer than ever. They would celebrate-silently and secretly, of course, since neither could verbalize their true affection for the other outwardly-the fact that both were still alive through their banter and wit. Today, however, Merlin had resumed his stony silence. Arthur wondered what could've caused it as feelings of self-doubt began to plague his thoughts again. 'Could it have been something I've done?' Arthur worried.

Again, the feeling of incompetence and undeserved loyalty plagued his mind as Merlin came back with the supplies. The black-haired youth stacked the wood by the crackling fire, and then stood up again.

"Goodnight sire," was all he said before heading off to a tree a short distance away to sleep.

This was yet another thing which troubled Arthur. Normally, they would sleep fairly close to the other-to remind themselves of their companionship and bond. And usually it was by the fire to keep warm. Yet Merlin had chosen not only to distance himself from the fire, but from Arthur tonight.

The royal didn't comment on Merlin's distance, however, as he took the first watch (it had been agreed upon earlier). As he stared off into the far, dark recesses of the woods, Arthur felt his thoughts take a similar turn into a darker place within his mind. He knew that a future king really shouldn't feel so concerned over what his servant thought of him. He also knew that a Pendragon should not feel such a disproportionate amount of self-doubt. Yet that didn't stop his imagination from playing out horrible scenarios in which he failed Merlin during his shift. 'You really don't deserve someone like Merlin, you arrogant prat' his conscience conveniently reminded him for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.

….

While Arthur attended to the watch, Merlin fell into a restless slumber. He had decided to rest by the tree because he needed to sort out his feelings and thoughts _away_ from the man who was causing his contradicting attitudes. However, when the warlock finally managed to find the sleep which so alluded him, he had a dream which was so realistic, Merlin was sure that it was more than just that.

_He was in a field dotted with wildflowers. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue. The woods which surrounded the grass had a friendly feeling to them, and there was a lake at the edge of the meadow. Some sort of inner compulsion pulled him towards the body of water. He walked quickly to the lake's edge-for some reason, something told him that he didn't have much time in this wonderfully serene place._

_As he finally reached the lake, the surface began to ripple from the center point. Suddenly, a beautiful woman emerged from its depths. But it wasn't just any woman-it was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It was the woman which had captured his heart all those years ago._

_Merlin stood still on the shores of the lake. He was too shocked to do anything else as she walked on the water towards him._

_As she approached him, her features formed an enigmatic, yet beautiful smile._

_"Hello Merlin."_


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Thank you all for your lovely reviews, alerts, and favorites! I once again feel empowered to write this story! Special thanks to FireChildSlytherin5 and nycorrall for their constant stream of support :) Please give me a review on what you think about Freya's "return"! I tried to explain it in a fairly believable, logical way-I hope I didn't disappoint anyone!

Chapter 6

"_F-Freya," Merlin stuttered, "What? H-how?"_

"_Take my hand," Freya smiled as she stepped onto the shore._

_Her regal-looking purple dress fanned out behind her as she walked hand-in-hand with Merlin. They were walking away from the lake now, and back to the meadow which Merlin had vacated. Once they had neared the middle of the field, with the lake still in view, and the blanket of wildflowers soft beneath them, Freya sat down. Merlin followed her example-otherwise he would've had to let go of her hand._

_They stayed sitting in silence holding hands for what felt like hours (or maybe it was merely minutes) when Merlin decided laid his head down upon Freya's lap and closed his eyes. Immediately, she began stroking his hair-it was almost unconsciously done-and began humming._

_Eventually, Merlin broke the peacefulness between the two of them. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he said quietly, "You still haven't told me how…why…you came to me, Freya."_

_She sighed softly. The breath was the final note to her wordless melody._

"_It's a long story Merlin. One which I'm not sure you want to hear," she finally said._

"_Please, tell me. I want to know. I want to help," Merlin pleaded._

_His eyes were no longer closed, and his concerned cobalts bored into her deep brown eyes, as if imploring her to tell him._

"_I did die," Freya started after a pause. She could not resist her lover's gaze-his overpowering desire to protect her practically overwhelmed her._

"_When I did, I saw the gates of Avalon. The spirits there, they recognized my suffering in life. They believed that I was unjustly cursed, and therefore died an untimely death. So they halted me from fully passing to the Great Unknown. Although they wanted to help me, they could not restore me to life. The Greater Power was the only one who was able to do that. So they took my case to the Power, and they deliberated for a while. Finally, it was agreed upon that I could return to the world of the living. Apparently, my role in that sphere was not yet over. The Greater Power knows all and can see into the future. It claimed that what was written could not be changed-I was needed to help unite Albion. That was why they had found sympathy in their hearts, and stopped my journey On. So in the end, the Power decided to help me, and return me to the living-but not out of sympathy. Instead, it did so because of the power of Destiny, which sometimes trumped its own. However, it was clear to the Power that my role in uniting Albion was not as a mere mortal. Thus, instead of returning as simply Freya, it made me the Lady of the Lake, the guardian of the Lake of Avalon._

"_My power was supreme as the Lady. Nothing could triumph over it in my domain except those spirits who had appointed me. However, I could never leave the lake. I was trapped there, and had to wait what Destiny had in store for me. When I became the Lady, I gained the privilege to see into the future as well as a greater general knowledge of magic and healing. I was allowed to know what my part in Albion was. It was to release the great sword forged in the dragon's breath-Excalibur, it will be called-from the lake's depths when the time was right. Once it was completed, however, I was unsure what would happen._

"_As you know, that task was completed a few months ago. I gave you the sword to vanquish Morgana's immortal army. Once my job was done, I felt a force expelling me from the water. I did not understand what it was at first. However, now I believe that it was the spirits of Avalon telling me that my time as guardian was over. As I lay gasping upon the shore of my watery prison I felt my consciousness slipping quickly away from me. I stood up, swaying slightly from the fact that I was about to black out, and managed to make my way to a bush on the fringe of the lake's boundary. I hoped to at least make it to the main road, but apparently that was not to be. Then all became black, and I knew nothing once more."_

_Freya became silent as she finished her tale. Merlin had still remained with his head in her lap, his long legs spread out on the grass. They had not broken the other's gaze throughout all of Freya's tale, but partway through it Merlin's hands reached up to take one of her hands in his as the other continued to stroke his hair._

_Merlin sat up slowly, opening his mouth to speak. He wanted to comfort Freya, tell her how strong she was. He wanted to express his undying love for her again. And he wanted to ask more questions. How was this connection between them possible? Where did the scratches come from? Did she know she was unconscious? Was she aware that Merlin was looking for a cure for her? However, as Merlin opened his mouth to speak a voice pierced his serene dream-world._

"Merlin!"

_Merlin's eyes opened wide as his mouth remained partially open. He didn't want to leave just yet-and he hadn't even-really-said anything to her! But Freya merely smiled again, although this time it was a small, sad smile. She let go of his hands now, and put one index finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion._

"_Hush now Merlin, it's okay," she said soothingly, as if she had read his mind which screamed at his mouth to say everything that he could before the dream was over, as if she had sensed Merlin's distress at her parting, "I love you."_

"Merlin!"

Merlin jolted awake. It was morning now-what had happened to his turn to take watch? Arthur was already up and moving about their campsite, smothering the remains of their fire into the earth. Apparently, the prat had decided not to wake him. It would've touched Merlin if their quest was taken under normal circumstances. It meant that Arthur had noticed how restless he had become during the night, and left him to sleep. However, this was not just another normal journey, so Arthur's selfless action was not acknowledged with the normal dosage of gratitude Merlin would've shown the blonde. This was especially true since it was Arthur's fault that Merlin's dream had been interrupted as well.

"Took you long enough. We still have a day's ride ahead of us," Arthur's rough voice pulled his thoughts back to a present which was filled with an aching back due to the uneven ground and a throbbing headache due to his concern and confusion over Freya, "I already took down our camp-which was technically your job."

Of course, the reprimand had to be included at the end. The message had held most of Arthur's usual gruffness to it. Merlin shook his head and stood up. However, as he prepared to mount his horse he realized that there was something to Arthur's tone. Something that, had he not been so distraught over Freya, perhaps he would've figured out.

….

Arthur had indeed stayed up all night on watch. He had seen Merlin muttering in his sleep-something about Freya. So Arthur figured that he could help his friend by not disturbing the little sleep he knew Merlin would get. He knew that his manservant's relationship with the girl was more complex and stronger than he would admit. However, it wasn't this truth that hurt Arthur. It was the fact that Merlin insisted on keeping secrets which cut him the deepest. So Arthur took advantage of his friend's unconsciousness to evaluate his own feelings. It was something which he tried to avoid at all costs on normal days. However, things regarding Merlin never seemed to fall under the "normality" label-except for the fact that Merlin was a normal part of Arthur's life now.

Merlin had not confided in him about his past. This seemed to be a conscious choice made by the young man. Thus, anything to do with Freya was strictly "off-limits" to talk about. These facts stung Arthur to his core. He constantly confided in Merlin, yet why couldn't the young man do the same with him? It was a puzzle which confused Arthur to no end as well. He thought that they were friends-maybe even-although he would have never admitted it out loud-best friends. Men bonded in the kind of brotherhood they had were supposed to sacrifice for each other. They were supposed to protect and help one another to the best of their abilities. Arthur had done this, hadn't he? For crying out loud, he had voluntarily offered to go with Merlin on a quest to save this girl who obviously was very special to him-despite the fact that he had various royal duties to attend in Camelot! 'Examining my feelings really doesn't' help anything,' Arthur concluded as the dawn was just beginning to break.

So he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts from his mind. Instead, he decided to imagine the type of girl Freya was-and how she and Merlin really met. It was more pleasant to think of these sorts of things than the hurt Merlin had caused him. So he settled into his patch of ground, settling in for the long watch ahead, as his brain became engrossed in thoughts of Merlin and Freya's true story.

Soon enough, the dawn had come, and with the morning came Arthur's relief from duty. So he began to disassemble the camp-which was usually Merlin's job-and pack up the horses. It was early morning by the time he had finished. He was tired-he hadn't rested at all last night since he had been on watch. However, that didn't stop him. A warrior-a knight of Camelot-was supposed to be able to survive trivial things like an all-night watch and be ready to go the next morning. Especially if the trivial matters came from protecting loved ones. So Arthur just shook his head, splashed some water from his canteen on his face, and was ready to go once more.

It was then that he couldn't put off waking Merlin any longer. So he walked over to the youth-the imaginary barrier between them temporarily put on hold.

"Merlin!" he called.

The raven-haired man stirred slightly, his brow creasing, but he didn't wake up.

"Merlin!" he called again.

This time Merlin jolted upright. As soon as Arthur saw that he was awake, he walked back to the main part of the campsite, and stamped out the remains of their campfire. He noticed that Merlin was still partially groggy from his slumber, so he decided to help him out with a slight bit of banter.

Took you long enough. We still have a day's ride ahead of us. I already took down our camp-which was technically your job," Arthur offered in a slightly brisk tone. It was partially to retain some sense of normality to their situation and their friendship after a previously rough day. However, it was also there to cover up the hurt that Merlin wouldn't confide in him, which still stung like an open wound to Arthur.

But Merlin merely shrugged it off and began to mount his horse. No witty remark was uttered, and Arthur's conversation starter spectacularly failed. The prince regent sighed heavily. There was still a long journey to go until they reached the general vicinity in which the lake was rumored to be. And it would feel even longer if Merlin's barriers remained up, and the young man's soul locked away from Arthur forever.

….

Gwen had woken up that morning to find Freya smiling. It was a faint smile-barely there-but it was. The smile was serene-as if she had accepted death's invitation to come along willingly. Or perhaps she had just finished having a conversation with her lover. However, the way the corners of her mouth twitched upwards looked more than serene-they looked secretive-as if only she and her companion knew what she was talking about. Either way, Gwen rapidly went to the girl's side to make sure that she still had a pulse.

It was there-but only just. Her body remained as cold as ever despite Gwen's best efforts to keep her warm. The fire had been burning brightly for most of the night, and Freya had taken all of Gwen's (plus some of the castle's) blankets.

'How on earth will she be able to last three more days?' Gwen thought, chewing her bottom lip in worry.


	7. Chapter 7

Note: nicsav I hope this (longer than normal) chapter answers your question. Thanks to all of the lovely reviewers and subscribers :) I hope that all the characters aren't too OOC in this (I try to make everyone behave, think, etc as realistically as possible)

Chapter 7

The second day of their quest was well underway. It was high noon, and Merlin was still mulling over Freya's words to him in his dream. She had said that she was expelled from the water as soon as her task was over. Yet she had delivered the sword to him months ago. How was it that she survived for all this time? From what he could tell, Gwen and Arthur had found Freya where she had blacked out. On top of that, where did she get those ugly scratches from? They were horrible, and just the thought of them made Merlin's blood run cold. He wanted to punish whoever did that to his sweet Freya, but he didn't know who to blame.

'If only I could've asked her,' Merlin thought wistfully.

He wasn't sure how the dream communication worked between them. He had had many dreams in which they reunited before, but none as vivid or realistic as last night's. And if she had been released from the lake for months already, why did the meeting-or dream-only occur now? Merlin was sure some sort of magical connection had been established between them, but by what? And why? And how did it work? And-most importantly-would it happen again tonight when he closed his eyes? Somehow, despite his joy at being able to speak with Freya again (and being so near to her), he had a foreboding feeling about the visit. As if it was a warning which he should heed. He just wasn't sure how it was one. Yet he couldn't get the feeling out of his gut.

Meanwhile, Arthur was still dealing with quite a lot of self-doubt. 'It was ironic,' he thought as they continued to make their way in silence, 'That the one man I can usually count on to help me through my uncertainty is the man who is causing the feeling in the first place.' Unfortunately, this put Arthur in quite a bit of a dilemma. For if Merlin wasn't willing to support Arthur, who did he turn to? He supposed Guinevere, but she was too far away from him right now to do any good. Technically,_ anyone_ who he could've leaned on aside from Merlin was quite a distance away from him.

As Guinevere, and Merlin for that matter, hinted at quite often, Arthur didn't have much tact. And unfortunately for him, tact was the best thing to arm himself with if he wanted to try and get anything out of Merlin. It wasn't like he hadn't tried already to get Merlin to open up with varying degrees of discretion-quite the opposite, really. But everything seemed to be in vain. 'How on earth will we ever triumphantly come back from the Sea if this level of our communication remains like this?' Arthur thought dismally.

They stopped for a brief lunch on the roadside after their long, silent ride together. Merlin had expressed a desire earlier that morning to not stop riding, but Arthur thought differently. He hoped that if they could stop moving for just a few moments, he might be able to get Merlin to talk with him.

They tied up the horses by a small stream, and Merlin withdrew a small package of food from his pack. The aura around him was practically oozing disapproval at the fact that they were stopped. The young man clearly wanted to continue forward.

Arthur, however, promptly took the food that Merlin-slightly-begrudgingly offered him and sat down by the water. He laid his sword to rest close on his right side, and motioned to the ground on the left.

"Sit down Merlin," Arthur said with false cheerfulness injected in his tone.

"No thank you sire," Merlin said stiffly, remaining at his position by the horses, "I prefer to stand."

"Oh come on now, you must be tired. You are such a girl in matters like these," Arthur jested. He hoped that his usual tactic of outright ignoring the situation and joking around might better his odds at receiving his desired information.

Merlin merely gave Arthur an impassive glance and remained standing as he ate his food.

He was sick of Arthur trying to pry in his business. After all, by definition the king had no right to snoop about in his _personal _affairs. However, as he thought this Merlin began to waver. After all, the man beside him was much more than his sovereign-he was his best friend. And as his friend, maybe he should give in a little bit to Arthur's requests. Because he really had been acting a bit surly lately, and the king had taken it as well as could be expected. Also, Merlin knew that he and Arthur probably did need a short break from riding. Even if he didn't agree, and wanted to press forward without hesitation he couldn't let Arthur know the reason why. Too many questions would be aroused. So the slight compromise of following some of his requests might be okay. If nothing else, it could put him off the trail and give up trying to persuade Merlin to talk about Freya.

So Merlin, taking all of these considerable factors in mind, slowly went over to sit down by Arthur.

The silence between them hung heavy in the air. It seemed like they hadn't been alright in years, not just two measly days, to Arthur. He hadn't really realized how much he had begun to lean on Merlin until now.

They sat in the uncomfortable quiet for a few moments, eating the rest of their food before Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He just had to ask Merlin what was going on. He could do it, couldn't he? He was being ridiculous getting worked up over a silly servant. 'Ok, being worked up over his best friend,' Arthur conceded, 'After all, if Merlin doesn't want to tell me anything that's his business, right? Except for the fact that he's been so sullen for the past few days-he's not really Merlin. So I have a right to know…'

Arthur moaned silently. This internal conflict had been wearing on his mind. He didn't like to over think things, he didn't like to not be in control. He was much better with actions than with words. Most of the time it proved useful, but with Merlin he felt completely helpless. It really irritated him. It put him slightly on edge mixed with a strange tinge of depression. He had to act soon-it was driving him mad.

He opened his mouth, about to finally ask Merlin what was so troubling, but he never got a chance to ask his question. For at that exact moment a terrible monster had found them. It had stalked its prey carefully for the past few minutes, but once it understood that the "food" was going to stay put without any doubt, it pounced without restraint, issuing a terrible roar as it charged forward from the bushes.

….

Gwen was having a particularly bad day with Uther today. Some days were better than others, but today clearly was not one of those times. He was being stubborn, refusing to take his daily draught that Gaius had prescribed to help "take the edge off the madness" (in his words). Gwen knew that it was truly a sedative. Without it, the king could be particularly lucid, and with that came varying degrees of despondency, rudeness, depression, and anger.

She sighed, frustrated, in the antechamber connecting Uther's rooms to the rest of the castle. She had departed his chambers with a curtsey in deference, despite his downright uncouth behavior. However, on the inside Gwen was steaming. She knew that Arthur had no idea that on particularly lucid days Uther treated her horribly. He yelled at her, calling her a sorceress and a simple maid whose status was so low that she had no right to even be in the same room as her king. However, she didn't want to inform Arthur. If she did, she was afraid that he would act in anger against his father in the heat of the moment-so she kept her tongue in check. It wasn't like she couldn't handle Uther-she honestly could. However, now that she was busy taking care of Freya and helping Leon run the kingdom for a few days it was particularly taxing.

Gwen would've asked Gaius to help her, but she knew she couldn't. Gaius had entrusted Freya to her after he examined the girl. He said it was because he knew Gwen could take care of her, and wanted her to be watched by the person who had found her. However, she knew that wasn't true. Gaius had his own reasons for wanting Freya with Gwen. And it wasn't hard for her to decipher them once Merlin gave her a better picture of the situation.

Gaius didn't want Freya in close proximity with the young man. If she was, he was probably afraid of Merlin being influenced to try and save her (not that moving her into Gwen's house would honestly stop him). Furthermore, Gaius was busy with a mild sickness that was sweeping though the lower town. It wasn't anything serious, but it was enough to keep a man of his age busy for a few weeks. Also, Gaius knew that Merlin wouldn't mind it if Gwen watched over her. She was someone that both of them could trust. So really, it wasn't like what Gaius said was inaccurate. He knew that Gwen was capable of handling Freya on her own. But deep down, Gwen knew the honest reason Gaius had left Freya in her care. It was because he knew that the girl was dying, and there wasn't anything he (or anyone else) could do to stop it-save Merlin. Only the Sea of Grace could help someone with that type of injury and who was as far gone as Freya was. He didn't believe that Gwen could heal her, but he believed she could make Freya's passing more comfortable. If she were awake, she would probably want to be surrounded by people who were kind and loving, and Gwen had both of those qualities. Ideally, Gaius and Gwen knew that Merlin would be the one to witness the event, but Gwen knew that he was going to be busy trying to save her. And honestly, she didn't want to make Merlin go through it again.

So she kept busy in silence, and continued to wait for Merlin and Arthur to return.

….

It was hideous, massive, and deadly. The beast had appeared out of nowhere, and Arthur and Merlin just had time to quickly get their bearings before it attacked. It was covered from head to foot in poisonous spotted black-white-and-grey quills just like a porcupine that it could fire at will. It also had a tail which had a heavy club-like end that waved tantalizingly close above their heads. It had no neck, the head was simply attached to its body, and walked on all fours like a dog. Yet it could rise and stand on two legs like a bear-which it was closer in size to. Its appendages ended in paw-like structures, yet it had to ability to climb to great heights. It also had a single, gigantic, red eye above two slits which were presumably used to smell with. Finally, and obviously its most recognizable and striking feature, was its very large mouth. It had no lips, which meant that it couldn't close its mouth properly, but it also meant that all of its razor sharp teeth were very noticeable. They looked like miniature swords all lined up and ready to be delivered to an army. However, instead of being inside a box or caravan like they normally would be, they were in the enormous maw of this beast.

Arthur had luckily put his sword close to his side, so he was armed and ready. The same could not be said, however, for Merlin-or at least, that's what Arthur thought. So when the creature started to make its way over the seemingly less threatening man his well-trained battle reflexes kicked in. Instinctively, he sought to protect, so when the beast started to charge towards Merlin, Arthur jumped in front of his friend.

He pointed his sword in the direction of the beast, and prayed that he would be able to do some damage. Apparently, he had a guardian angel somewhere because it delved straight into the monster's single eye. Blood gushing out, the animal roared in anguish at being blinded and immediately responded by whipping its tail around. The monster was not disappointed for it found a target in Arthur.

Merlin had been mentally preparing-summoning up his powers to use in self-defense when he realized the beast was coming after him. He was glad it was, since if it was attacking him he wouldn't have to be secretly trying to protect Arthur. But the stupid prat just _had _to be noble and jump in the way of the creature. So instead of protecting himself, he quickly channeled his magic to affect Arthur's sword. His eyes flashed gold and the weapon found a mark in the form of an eye.

But when the brute swung its tail around in retaliation, Merlin was too slow to react. Arthur fell to the ground from the impact. Luckily, there were no quills on the end of the tail-it took on more of the shape of a club and brute force seemed to be its best advantage. Furthermore, Arthur's armor helped deflect a slight bit of the blow. However, there was no denying it-the prince was knocked out cold.

Although Merlin wished that Arthur wasn't lying unconscious in the mud, he also knew the advantages that came with the blonde being out of the picture. It meant he could freely use his magic.

So with a few small words, Merlin began attack against the beast.

….

The day had finally ended-much to Gwen's relief. It had been a strenuous one, and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep. The moon was high-proof of her long hours in the castle. However, as soon as she walked through the threshold of her house she knew that was going to be impossible.

For the moment Gwen had entered the room she heard a voice-and not just any voice. A very specific, supposedly quite lovely voice if it hadn't been screaming at the top of her lungs.

But it wasn't just shouting nonsense. It was yelling a name. And in the desperate pleas Gwen felt-for just a moment-all of the despair, longing , passion, frustration, and love pent up within her patient's entire being.

"MERLIN!"

….

The monster was vanquished. It had been a long, laborious battle, but in the end Merlin had won. The sun was just beginning to set when it was finished. Arthur also began to stir to consciousness as the last rays faded over the horizon.

"Mmm…Merlin?" Arthur asked woozily from his position in the dirt. He tried to sit up, and put a hand to his head, "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Merlin said wearily from his place about ten feet away from his companion. The body of the creature was gone. It had been levitated into the river by the raven-haired youth, and washed downstream. All that remained of their fight were the pools of scarlet blood which stained the green grass, a couple of quills (embedded in various pieces of nature), and a few demolished trees.

"The eye was its weak spot, I guess. After you were knocked out it stampeded around here in blind agony. It shot some quills out in anger, but I took cover and made sure you were safe. Its other senses weren't as good as its sight, so it didn't detect either of us. Eventually, it tired itself out and wandered off. I heard a splash in the river, and when I went to see what happened I realized it fell into the water and was swept away downstream." Merlin explained evenly, having years of experience lying to Arthur, to make it sound so convincing.

In reality, the creature had extremely heightened senses. Losing its sight merely increased the ability of the others, and it took all of Merlin's cunning to outmaneuver it. The beast was also more resilient to magic than Merlin had thought, and it was quick to dodge most of his spells. The quills it fired nearly hit Merlin multiple times. However, Merlin was going to be darned if he let a simple, blind creature kill him. After all, he had survived much worse and lived to tell the tale, and Arthur still needed him. Although, the fact that this quest was undertaken by Arthur trying to help Merlin was conveniently forgotten.

"Really?" Arthur asked, still slightly dazed.

"Really," Merlin affirmed, "I've been waiting for you to wake up for quite a bit. We still have a lot of riding to do and its already evening. I didn't want to chance putting you on a horse until you awoke."

'…And I would never leave you,' Merlin finished in his head. Despite what had happened today he would never abandon his master. Arthur would have to succumb to death itself before he could ever get rid of the warlock, and even then Merlin would find a way to bring him back or follow him into the Silence.

However, Arthur didn't seem to sense the unspoken words which hung in the air. Almost immediately, he tried to stand after Merlin spoke. To him, Merlin's information meant that they had lost a lot of time-and it was all his fault. After all, if he hadn't suggested going to stop for lunch they probably wouldn't have encountered the beast, he wouldn't have been knocked out, and they would've been closer to finding the Sea. Furthermore, blame for any injuries that he and Merlin sustained would be his to bear as well. In short, he was the entire reason everything was currently messed-up. So the sooner he could move the sooner he could try to amend for his actions.

….

It was all they could manage to find and set up camp. They had found a small stream by which to rest, roughly close to where they were supposed to have reached hours ago. The young warlock had sensed a mild form of protecting, good magic by the water, and immediately liked the location. So unofficially, he had decided the camping spot. Furthermore, they were-finally-less than an hour away from the area where the Sea was reportedly sighted.

"We'll be safe here," Merlin pronounced, plopping down on the ground after making sure his horse was in order, and the firewood had been rounded up. He placed it close to where he was sitting, wanting the fire to be as close to him as possible as he started to feel slightly chilled.

"Since when do you decide things like that?" Arthur joked hollowly. He was still bitter about how the day had turned out, and was beating himself up about it. However, he still eagerly sat down after his own affairs were in sorts. He was still trying to recuperate since the blow to his head, and standing for an extended length of time was making him nauseous-not that he would ever admit it.

He sat close to the pile of wood with the intention of getting a decent fire going. As he did so, he heard Merlin mutter, "Since you can't trust a prat to do it right."

However, his slight grin was unmistakable in the fading twilight. It was the first "normal" thing Merlin had said to Arthur in a long time. The king practically beamed with joy at finally getting a glimmer of his old friend again. Maybe it was a good sign.

"Mer-" Arthur began, but as he turned his back on the fire he was so focused on starting, Merlin was already fast asleep. Apparently the small joke had taken all of the young man's strength. For the raven haired youth was still propped upright, and in a position which looked like he could be ready to take off at a moment's notice. Yet he was unconscious, and his head slightly lolled to one side.

Arthur chuckled softly to himself. Maybe there was hope for them after all. The joke had already raised his spirits because it could mean that Merlin did not blame him for today. He meant to take the first shift for their watch, but soon he too had drifted off-unknowingly-to sleep.

….

While Arthur started the fire, Merlin hadn't meant to fall asleep. But the magic he had felt occurring in and around their campsite gave him a much different story. Its comforting presence reassured Merlin that they would not be attacked by any of the forest creatures as long as they stayed within its power. And the magnitude of Merlin's secret battle was beginning to catch up with him. Thus, with the adrenaline gone from his system, Merlin began to feel his aches and sores until he simply blacked out from the pain.

_Merlin found himself in the field of wildflowers again. The sky was once again shinning, and the lake was still there at the end of the meadow. It was exactly the same as before, but this time Merlin knew precisely where he wanted to go. So he wasted no time in moving quickly to the shores of the lake to await the appearance of his Love…_

….

Arthur hadn't intended to, but he had fallen asleep without waking his friend for his shift. He was so exhausted from his head wound, and internal struggle that as soon as he took a deep breath, his eyes began to droop shut. There was also_ something_ to the location Merlin had picked, but Arthur wasn't quite sure what it was. Somehow, it felt-_safe_.

However, halfway through the night Merlin started to break a cold sweat and began to thrash about in his sleep. He moaned and rolled around so fitfully that Arthur actually began to wake up.

'Mmmgghh….Meeeerrrrlinnnnn," Arthur grunted sleepily, being only half-conscious to mentally process what his friend was doing. All he really understood was that Merlin was the reason his rest was being interrupted.

However, that changed when Merlin suddenly uttered a blood-curdling shout.

The moon was high, and Arthur jolted upright. He ran over-sword in hand-to his friend who was only a few feet away.

"Merlin! MERLIN!" Arthur shouted, trying frantically to wake him up when he realized Merlin's cries were caused by his dream.

But Merlin's eyes didn't flutter open. They stayed tightly sealed as he yelled a single name over and over again, "Freya! FREYA!"


	8. Chapter 8

Note: I know, I'm a terrible person for not updating sooner. However, the past few weeks have been super hectic for me, and most likely the next two coming up will be as well. But don't worry _Mer_lin fans (said in Bradley James' voice ;) ), I haven't forgotten about my story! Ending feels a little rushed to me, but review so I know what you think?

Chapter 8

Arthur liked to be in control of things. It was in his nature, and he had learned to expect to be the one in charge of the situation. If he was, then he would naturally be able to fix whatever problem arose. However, the few moments when he was _not_ in charge, Arthur was at a loss. This situation with Merlin was something that Arthur, albeit begrudgingly, would have to concede that he was _not_ in control of.

The young man had not woken up despite Arthur's best efforts to rouse him. He had stopped screaming the name Freya a few hours ago, but he was still shivering like mad. The sweat on his brow had soaked his clammy skin quite thoroughly, and he was still very much unconscious. Arthur had maintained a silent vigil over Merlin that night, watching his friend like a hawk for any sign of a change in his condition. Yet nothing changed until dawn.

The third day was rising with the sun, and it was still almost half a day's ride to the area where the Sea was rumored to be located. 'We would've been within a few minutes of the bloody place if not for my foolishness in forcing Merlin to stop by the stupid river,' Arthur thought dismally.

He continued to brood over his darkening thoughts when, as the sun hit their camping spot with a brilliant array of light, Merlin shot upright into a rigid sitting position. He was awake.

….

_Merlin found himself in the field of wildflowers again. The sky was once again shinning, and the lake was still there at the end of the meadow. It was exactly the same as before, but this time Merlin knew precisely where he wanted to go. So he wasted no time in moving quickly to the shores of the lake to await the appearance of his Love._

_He waited impatiently on the slightly rocky beach, tapping his foot up and down with anxiety. He still didn't understand why they could communicate now through their dreams. Freya had said that she laid by the bushes for months. If she had been out of the water for that long, why hadn't she contacted him before? Or was she not able to before now? And why? Furthermore, how did she get those hideous gashes on her arms?_

_All of these things Merlin wanted to ask before he had to wake-up again. However, as he was neatly arranging the queue of his questions in his head he realized that something was wrong. He was unsure exactly how much time had passed since he arrived in the meadow, but something was different now. The wind was starting to pick up, and the blue sky was in danger of approaching storm clouds on the horizon. The weather was taking a turn for the worse, and the lake didn't show a single sign that Freya might dwell beneath it._

_An unsettling feeling began to settle itself down in the pit of Merlin's stomach. Something was not right. He looked around uneasily from his position on the shore until he could bear it no longer. He began to rush forward towards the water. He had to know if Freya was alright. However as soon as he tried to get to the lake he was repelled back by some invisible, unknown power. He was flung against the ground, landing painfully on his back. He stood up, though, despite the pain and ran again at the lake. This time he used his magic to protect himself as he went full force into the force field. Yet once again the lake flung him back onto the shores. The storm which had previously been off in the distance was now beginning to take action. The wind was starting to pick up, and the blue sky was completely covered by dark, thundering clouds._

_Merlin was in even more pain now than he was before as he hit the rocks again. He could tell that the impact threw his back slightly out of alignment, and that he had serious whiplash. 'It is unnatural to be in so much pain in a mere dream,' Merlin thought. However, at the same time the notion ran its course in his mind he knew this was no ordinary dream. And since it was too real to simply be his imagination, Merlin knew how important it was to fight his pain and find Freya._

_The storm was starting to pick up now, but the intensity of it merely pushed Merlin onward. He wasn't afraid of a few thunderclouds. After all, he was the master of the weather, and all storms obeyed him._

_So he rose once again to his feet and attempted to approach the lake, although this time a little shakily. Yet there was a fiery determination in his eye that proclaimed he was going to find Freya no matter what the price he had to pay._

_As he reached the water's edge this time there was no power holding him back. Merlin started to head towards the center of the lake as fast as he could, but suddenly he stopped. For as soon as he entered a few feet into the water the surface of the lake became smooth as glass. In fact, Merlin might've mistaken it for glass if it wasn't for the fact that it didn't feel hard around his calves. He tried to move forward, but his legs were trapped. He was stuck in his uncomfortable half-standing, half-sprinting position when he saw it. Her. Freya._

_The storm was in full force now, framing the lake with its terrible power when the lightening began. It served to illuminate briefly every few minutes the horrible sight the unnaturally still waters contained. For underneath its surface was Freya, trapped underneath the terrible glass-like structure. _

_Merlin was sure that he heart broke at the sight of her. The panicked, scared look in her eyes as her mouth moved to form his name over and over again while she pounded on the surface of the water shattered his entire being. She was trapped beneath the lake, and only the lightening served to show Merlin the steady stream of bubbles which were streaming from her mouth._

"_Freya! FREYA!" Merlin shouted as loud as he could, frantically motioning to her whilst trying to move at the same time. But the water held him firm, and his struggling was for naught despite his attempts to escape using magic._

_His voice was drowned out by the sounds of the thunder, but Freya somehow seemed to hear him, for as soon as he began to shout her name they made eye contact. Blue met brown, and an unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them. "I will find a way to save you. I promise." "I love you, Merlin."_

_And then before he could say anything do anything-_

Merlin jolted awake. The sun had disturbed his slumber, and now he was unsure about which way was up and which was down. It was disorienting to come out of a dream in which Freya's life depended on him only to find that he was actually camping out in the woods with Arthur-

Arthur! Speaking of the prat, Merlin realized that he was looming over his own body, peering at him with a bit of uncertainty.

"Um, Merlin?" Arthur coughed quietly. He was afraid of startling Merlin even more so. He looked like a deer caught in a hunter's trap when he woke-up, wide-eyed and slightly on edge.

Merlin shook his head, willing himself to focus on Arthur's voice. It was about the only thing which didn't make him want to throw-up right now.

"Ugghhh, Arthur? What-where are we?" Merlin asked shakily, he didn't exactly trust himself to speak at this moment.

He saw the blonde man's forehead crinkle with concern before he answered, "We're camping by a small stream which you insisted was a safe location. We're a little less than half a day's ride to the Tree of Grace which serves as a landmark for the location the Sea is rumored to be around. You-you were having a nightmare Merlin. And I couldn't wake you up."

"Oh," was all the young man could say in response to Arthur. He didn't realize they were so far from where he wanted to be. On top of that, he still felt slightly dizzy.

Merlin had rested his head in his hands, his palms were pressed against his eyelids

Meanwhile, Arthur just sat by him watching him silently. He wanted to confess to Merlin that he had been scared for a while about the young man's well-being. He had been worried sick, and frightened that he would never be able to confess to Merlin his biggest fears, his largest doubts that he'd had on their journey. While he had sat by his friend throughout the night, Arthur had come to terms with the fact that he needed to confide in Merlin once he woke up before it was too late. It also meant a lot of courage and squashed pride on his part, if he was to do it. But Merlin was more important than a slightly deflated ego, Arthur finally decided.

Except now that the man was awake, it was harder to find the courage that Arthur had been nurturing while he had been unconscious.

However, he steeled himself and summoned up his courage to do the one thing he avoided at all cost-talking about his feelings with Merlin. Because if he didn't, Arthur knew he would regret it for the rest of his life if he never got the chance again. Furthermore, he noticed, Merlin wasn't exactly in the best shape to poke fun at him if he told him his concerns. Not that that always squashed the endless supply of cheek his black-haired companion seemed to have, but Arthur decided it was do or die time-now or never.

"Hey, Merlin?" Arthur asked hesitantly. This was harder than he thought.

Merlin looked up at the address. Truth be told, he felt in no mood to humor Arthur. He had much larger problems to face. Like Freya and her survival both consciously and unconsciously. But the tone of his master's voice, and the look in his eye stopped Merlin's retort. Arthur looked severely uncomfortable and nervous. He only got that look when he had a serious issue to talk about.

"What is it Arthur?" Merlin asked in a softer tone than he had originally planned on using.

"Look, I-I just wanted to ask what the heck is going on with you lately. Despite the fact that I am, as you rightfully call me on _some_ occasions, an idiot and oblivious to my surroundings, I'm not with how you've been acting lately. I'm not so much of a fool that you don't want to talk with me about what's going on in that funny little mind of yours. But I don't get it-why? I tell you practically everything about my life, and you tell me nothing about yours! Why do you put up with me and my problems if I never help you sometimes? I don't know if it's something I've done or _what_ to put you in this foul mood, but I'm sorry. For whatever it is. I just want us to go back to the way we were. I know that I was an arrogant downright mean bully before you got here and I don't deserve a friend like you! But I really am trying Merlin, my goodness I am, but you've got to help me understand…._something_." Arthur's confession tumbled out of his mouth, the words pouring out and over each other one after another.

It was like the floodgates were open, and he couldn't stop it even if he tried. However, due to this his words came out in a single breath, and were garbled together. He hoped that Merlin understood what he said, though. Because he would rather die than have to repeat such a pathetic, _un-masculine_ like speech ever again in his entire life.

Arthur was lucky, though, and Merlin had heard every word perfectly. He didn't realize that Arthur had been so concerned about him, or that his behavior had bothered the royal so much. In all honestly, Merlin had been so focused on rescuing Freya that he hadn't noticed his callous behavior towards his best friend. He knew it was probably an unconscious off-shoot of the fact that Arthur had been the one to originally kill Freya, and that it was because of this everything else had happened. But he had never told the king the true events of that fateful night, so it wasn't fair to treat Arthur in such a manner. On top of this, Merlin blamed himself more than anything else, and Arthur's slightly annoying behavior hadn't done anything to raise his spirits. But when his master laid his soul out like this-in a fashion that almost never happened-Merlin couldn't ignore it. Besides, he had even blatantly apologized for being a prat! That never happened. Ever. So Merlin decided that he owed Arthur somewhat of an explanation.

"Arthur," Merlin began quietly, his head still hurt slightly but at least he wasn't nauseous or dizzy anymore, "You're a great man. You will be-you are-the best king that Camelot has ever-and will ever-know. Sure you were a prat at the beginning, but I didn't make you to be a better man. You changed on your own into that great warrior that's always resided in your heart. And I'm sorry that I've been acting a bit strangely lately-I guess I sort of owe you an explanation for that, eh?"

Merlin inserted a weak smile here before continuing on, "It's not your fault. I promise I forgave you a long time ago, but the stress of this quest has been wearing me thin. I really don't want to go into much detail about everything. But just know that Freya's a very special person to me. Very special. I've just been so worried about her that I guess I kind of channeled my frustration into a colder exterior. So I'm sorry too."

The tone of Merlin's voice sounded like he was done with what he had to say, and he fell silent again.

The apology and clarification of Merlin's attitude was a good start for Arthur, but it wasn't enough. The part about something not being his fault-forgiveness-there had to be more to it. Although he wanted to accept Merlin's wish to let the matter drop, he just couldn't. He had to know.

"Merlin, I know that you don't want to talk about what happened, but that's the root of all this-this frustration for me. I don't know how to fix our friendship without knowing what I've done to ruin it in the first place," Arthur said.

His tone was pleading, a rare sound for Merlin, and although he really didn't feel like going into the details of Freya's murder, he realized that Arthur needed it. Heck, maybe even he needed it to move on and make the rest of their journey a smoother one than it had been so far. After all, he never exactly confided in anyone what happened that night. And although he would leave out his details about magic, the emotions behind it might be satisfactory enough to heal both their wounds.

"Okay, here it goes…" Merlin started, and he began to tell Arthur a tale about a beautiful druid girl who was rescued by a big-eared manservant to the then-prince.

….

_She was back in the stupid lake. She may've been the Lady over the waters, but that didn't mean she enjoyed her power. She had been granted the privilege of being guardian over The Lake which guarded the gates to Avalon. Yet she could feel no pride, no joy in her occupation because it was also her prison. She was unable to leave the lake. Forbidden from seeing her true love, Merlin, forevermore. How could someone take pleasure in being separated from their heart? Their other half which makes them whole? But she tolerated it. She knew that if she was still in the land of the living, however fragile that connection was, she had a chance of seeing him again. So she waited. And waited. Until finally her wish had come true, albeit in an unusual way. They had chatted through their dreams, but in a more realistic way than she ever imagined. 'Perhaps it is because I'm dying,' Freya thought ruefully._

_The unnaturally strong feeling of realism was there for a reason. It was because it was real. They were communicating through the land of the unconscious. However, while Merlin disappeared from the meadow when he woke up, she remained. She was incapable of leaving because she was never conscious._

_The past few months had passed by in a dull blur. The lake in this unconscious realm had been her home since she had been cast out of The Lake in the real world. And nothing changed in the land she occupied now. She realized that she had only remained alive by those bushes that Arthur and Gwen had found her by due to her lingering magic from being the Lady of the Lake. 'Well, ex-Lady,' she corrected herself again, since the sidhe had threw her out of the lake once her task of delivering Arthur's sword had been completed._

_However, she knew that she would have to die sooner or later. A life for a life was the rule the old religion declared if she was to keep on breathing. That meant that a life of equal value had to die in her place, and Freya was not one for living with that on her conscious forever-she was too compassionate._

_Yet-and here was where she always seemed to break down-if she died without seeing Merlin one last time she thought that she would go insane. She would die a second death of simple heartbreak. Perhaps it was this deep seeded wish, created out of love, which enabled him to visit her. Of course, it wasn't until she knew in her heart that her time was fast approaching-the magic wouldn't sustain her for much longer-when he showed up._

_He had looked utterly shocked to see her the first time, and she joyfully ran to him. She relished the feeling of being in his arms one last time before he vanished. 'Woke up,' Freya bitterly corrected herself. She wished that she could do the same, to be with Merlin for real with the living, support him through all of his problems in life, without making someone else die in her place._

_However, after his visit she soon realized that she was unable to wander about where she pleased. Before he had came, she had been stuck in the lake, but she hadn't minded. She could laze about underneath the surface, or on it as she pleased, and felt no strong desire to go anywhere else. After all, despite her resentment for the lake there was no denying that it was her home at the same time. _

_But now, after he vanished she felt an inexplicable pull to the water, and she couldn't fight it try as she might. Soon, she was a prisoner once more. She tried desperately to go to the meadow so she could wait for Merlin there, but it was to no avail. Gloomily, she resigned herself back to her confines, and sunk below the surface to stew in her thoughts. _

_As the time drew closer to when she thought Merlin might appear again, however, Freya noticed that there was something different. She rose to the surface of the lake, but it wouldn't budge. She pushed against the water with all of her might, but instead it transformed into a clear, unbreakable wall. She looked around in horror as she took in the change in the weather, and then the lanky figure she would recognize anywhere-Merlin._

_He stood on the shore, confused for a few moments before running towards the lake-towards her. But he was thrown back by an unknown force twice before he was admitted. Then, he was rooted to the spot. She could feel it, feel his touch on the outskirts of her waters, but she couldn't speak to him, get him to understand that she was there._

_That was when, suddenly, a strong force, the same power Freya suspected had initially repelled Merlin away, gripped her from behind and attempted to drag her to the watery depths of the lake._

_A type of panic gripped her entire essence as she realized this. She couldn't get Merlin to notice her, and here she was, going down, down, down towards who-knows-what and she wasn't able to fight it._

"_MERLIN!" she shouted, struggling with all of her might against both the surface of the lake and the powerful, strong pull._

_She shouted his name frantically, over and over again in hopes that he would understand when finally, suddenly, he did. As their eyes met, she tried to convey her last, most important sentiment that she loved him. And as she sent this message to her, he seemed to respond back with a promise of rescue._

_But she could never be sure that was what truly happened, because it was at that moment he vanished, and so did she as her strength finally gave-in against the relentless pull._

….

Arthur finally understood once Merlin had reached the end of his tale. He finally got why Merlin had avoided answering his questions so much as well. He had killed his true love. Arthur felt sick to his stomach that he was the one responsible for so much pain. He couldn't even imagine forgiving Merlin if he had killed Guinevere. Yet here Merlin was, fully ready to forgive, and had forgiven, a man who had inflicted pain in the worst possible way.

As he told his story, Arthur noticed Merlin perk up ever so slightly. It sounded like Merlin had never told a single soul about this pain he had felt, experienced, and it was eating him up inside. So Arthur was happy to be the first one to listen.

It had been hard for both of them at parts, but by the end of the saga, Arthur knew it had been good for both of them. It was a first step each of them had taken to heal their wounds.

…

Guinevere had monitored Freya well into the night. After her initial outbursts she had gone deathly quiet. However, she hadn't stopped twitching, ever so subtly since then. Gwen was beginning to feel ragged with exhaustion, but she felt a strong duty to watch over the girl. She had begun to unconsciously root for her, for her victory over death.

….

After they had both re-established their relationship, the terms by which each man stood, Arthur and Merlin set off again.

They had reached the point where the sea was rumored to be located soon enough. It was a fairly uneventful journey, and things had settled back to normal-whatever that may be for the two of them. When they had found the tell-tale tree which served as a landmark for the location, Merlin decided that they should split up to cover more ground. Arthur couldn't help but agree. Since they had confronted each other about their problems, their easy friendship seemed to be restored, and he was eager to keep it that way.

Arthur couldn't believe how lucky he was to have a friend like Merlin. He honestly didn't believe that he deserved his forgiveness, his acceptance of his "prattish behavior", as the raven-haired man appropriately dubbed it. It was like this sense of relief had washed over him while simultaneously he promised himself to do better, be a better friend. Merlin deserved one.

While he contemplated these things in his heart, Arthur failed to notice the faint sound of waves in the background. It sounded like they gently hit a shoreline not too far away. In fact, he was so wrapped up in this sense of forgiveness, this undeserved favor that Merlin bestowed upon him that he didn't realize he had stumbled upon it until he already had.

There, right before his eyes, he knew he had done it. He had found the Sea of Grace.


	9. Chapter 9

Note: Soooo this was about a year and a half in the making. My deepest apologies to anyone who was reading this that it took so long. My writer's block was horrible, and since I knew how I wanted the story to end I didn't feel like continuing it for a long time. But here it is. Only about three chapters left now!

Chapter 9

The Sea was a crystal clear cerulean blue. There were small waves which gently rose and fell on its surface, despite the fact that there was no detectable breeze or tide to cause the movement. In the center of it, Arthur could see a minuscule island which was covered in the greenest grass he had ever laid eyes on. It was dotted with yellow spots here and there, which he realized with a jolt would be the flowers they were so desperately seeking.

"MERLIN!" he called excitedly in the last direction he had heard his servant stumble about, "MERLIN!"

But there was no answer. Perhaps the idiot had stumbled further away from him than Arthur originally thought. He was about to call out again, when he remembered the legends about the mysterious Sea. "It would only reveal itself to those who 'knew the true meaning behind its name'". Maybe it wasn't Merlin who was far away, perchance it was truly himself. After all, the Sea was magical so it made sense that if he found it he could not call out to others. It was possible that he, Arthur, was chosen to find the Sea, and not Merlin. However, if that was the case, how was he supposed to get to the island in the center? And should he wait for Merlin to find him? Or should he continue on with the quest by himself?

...

As Arthur was pondering the answers to his multitude of questions, Merlin was wandering about not far from the shores of the hidden Sea. However unlike Arthur, Merlin could not hear the gentle lapping of waves upon a fair shore. The warlock could sense the presence of its deep and powerful magic, but he could not see it. Frustrated, he knew that he would not be able to find it if the Sea wanted to be hidden. No magic in existence was powerful enough to force its location into light if it did not want to be found.

In despair, Merlin decided to go back and find Arthur, but when he looked for the king he realized that his best friend had vanished. Not only that, but he had disappeared near a place of magic so strong that Merlin was almost knocked over by the sheer concentration of it. Putting two and two together, Merlin realized that it was Arthur, not himself, who was chosen to find the plant and save Freya.

Although he could not help but feel slightly jealous of Arthur's ability to be the chosen one for what felt like practically everything, at the same time Merlin acknowledged the gratefulness he felt at Arthur's willingness to help him on the quest. So here he was, waiting at the mercy of fate to find out if Arthur was successful in securing the flower. Never in his wildest dreams would Merlin have thought that this day would come. A time when he was forced to wait and see if his best friend, who killed her, could rescue the love of his life.

….

Arthur was a man of action. It wasn't as if he couldn't take a moment to think of all possible outcomes, but he knew that he and Merlin were on a bit of a deadline. A deadline that actually could result in someone being dead if he didn't make some sort of decision one way or another to go after the flower.

Mind made up, Arthur methodically went around the shore of the lake, searching for anything to help him get across the water, when he found a boat. It was innocently tangled up in a few weeds, lying a few feet in front of him. Arthur scrambled to go to it, and eagerly examined it to check its condition. He saw that the boat looked charred around the edges, as if at one point a fire had been contained within it. However, he couldn't find any oars inside. Instead there were only decaying ferns that were arranged in the shape of what appeared to be a bed, and a bouquet of dead flowers.

Groaning in frustration, Arthur got inside the boat to see if there were any paddles underneath all the plants. However, once he got inside the boat began to move of its own accord. Startled, Arthur looked around wildly until he realised it was magic.

'No point in worrying about it now', he thought. Grim faced, but with steely determination, Arthur crouched in the boat, sword drawn just in case, facing the island that was slowly looming nearer.

...

Meanwhile, Merlin was wandering about aimlessly, futilely attempting to distract himself from where Arthur could be, and if he had accomplished the task. He was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he didn't notice how he had stumbled upon the same lake he had buried Freya in. The same lake which she was found abandoned by.

Suddenly, a lone silhouette appeared, concealed in the shadows.

However, Merlin felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck. It had never led him astray before, so he quickly turned around. And, peering into the shade of the trees, he couldn't believe who it was that faced him.

...

The boat gently announced its arrival to Arthur's destination by bobbing cheerfully against the side of the island.

The young man got out of the boat hesitantly, and tensed as he alertly scanned the island for any signs of evil. There were none that he could see, so he quickly looked for the nearest patch of flowers.

He remembered that Merlin and Gaius had mentioned that just one would do the job, so to be safe he decided to take an entire bunch in his hands. He bent down, preparing to pull the flower out of the ground. But before he could take it an old woman appeared.

...

"Morgana!" Merlin spat.

She scornfully laughed at the manservant, lying on the ground.

"Merlin, let's just cut to the chase. If you're here that means Arthur is too. But I don't much fancy having Arthur find out that I'm here," Morgana said.

"Why?" Merlin asked defiantly, as he got back to his feet.

His chin raised proudly in a subtle conveyance of resistance.

However, instead of answering Morgana merely knocked Merlin out again, this time for good, with a powerful blast of energy. She walked over to his unconscious form and stared down at it.

As soon as Morgana saw Freya emerge from the lake, she knew who the girl was. Even in her weakened state her powers of foresight as the High Priestess hadn't diminished. She had heard of a prophecy, concerning Emrys, and how he and the Lady of the Lake were destined to bring prosperity to Camelot under Arthur's reign. And she couldn't afford to let that happen.

It was clear that the girl was weak, and soon she fainted at the base of a nearby shrub. It was laughably easy how Morgana was able to inflict those wounds upon Freya, and leave her there to die. However, she didn't expect Arthur to show up so soon and rescue the girl. Although normally proud, and ready to fight to the death, she recognized that her power was still too weak for a real confrontation. Thus, she merely sunk back into the shadows, allowing Freya to be taken back to Camelot. 'After all', she thought, 'It's not like Emrys could possibly be in the castle. He probably doesn't even know that his love is in danger and will die soon.'

Like Freya, Morgana decided to quickly inflict the same wounds upon Merlin. So after she sprinkled some herbs over him, she muttered various incantations to make him forget ever meeting her and to make the deep, red scars appear on his arms just like Freya.

...

Arthur quickly drew his sword, aiming it at the old woman.

However, she just gazed upon him. She didn't speak, didn't utter a single word. She didn't even take a step closer to him to attack or cower back in fear. But her stare felt like it pierced Arthur straight through to his soul.

'You are worthy,' she simply stated, without opening her mouth, 'You may obtain the flowers.'

Arthur quickly discerned that she was speaking to him telepathically. Magic. So he prepared to draw his sword against her, but before he could she spoke again,

'Please, don't use that weapon here, young prince. This is sacred ground, meant for healing. Which is why I'm assuming you're here in the first place.'

Arthur didn't lower it, but he didn't resume his attack.

"How did you-", he began to say aloud, but she cut him off.

'Know who you are? Know about your mission? Many people try to locate this island, young prince. However, it is protected by an ancient magic. A magic which knows all, and personifies itself to converse with those few people it deems worthy of entering. Only those who know the true meaning of its name can enter', once again she communicated telepathically.

Arthur's brow furrowed, "But I still don't understand what-"

'What that means?', she interrupted again.

'Now she was just showing off', Arthur thought, but without much spite.

'It means that only those who understand what grace is, how to accept it, how to embrace it, and how to do their best to repay those who bestow it upon them can enter here.'

With that she vanished, leaving Arthur alone, standing there dumbly, sword still in hand, and poised to strike.

Feeling odd, and wanting to leave quickly before the woman had a chance to use any magic against him, Arthur quickly retrieved the flowers he had bent down to pick. Quickly, he made his way back to the boat and it started moving again of its own accord.

They had it. They had succeeded in getting the small yellow flower which glowed like the sun. Now all that was left was to run like the wind back to Camelot. And to find Merlin.

...

_Freya sat in the murky depths of her unconscious watching, waiting for Merlin's rescue. She knew that he couldn't always save her, that this might be the one time that he failed her, but in her heart of hearts she knew that she could never give up hope._

_Death. That was the devilish fiend behind the grasp which Freya could not escape. And it had so conveniently taken the form of a black haired lady which Freya knew to be Morgana, Arthur's half-sister._

_She couldn't escape now, not without Merlin's help at least, when she thought she heard him moan. The faint sound had overcome even death's hold on Freya, and her spirit quickly rose to the challenge._

_Her heart broke when she heard that sound. She couldn't let her Love be in any sort of pain if she could help it. No longer apathetic and hopeless, a fierce surge of love surged within her. It awakened her protective instincts, and her passionate devotion to Merlin helped her escape from Death's claws if for a moment._

_Quickly, she surfaced to the lake top to see Merlin lying unconscious by the water's edge._

_She sprinted across the surface of the water, stopping in front of her beloved's prone form. She bent down to cradle his head and whisper encouraging words to him, knowing that she didn't have long before Death found her once again, but this time permanently._

_"Everything will be okay Love", she half whispered, half sobbed as she clutched Merlin tightly to her chest, "Everything will be okay."_

….

Arthur found his manservant lying face down on the ground by a lake. He quickly went over to him to examine his body for any damages. He found the same angry red marks that had been found on Freya's body. He didn't know how to administer the flower's magic to his friend, so instead he quickly strapped Merlin to the back of his horse. If anything he just hoped to get back to Camelot in time to save Merlin too.


End file.
